


Rivals and Measures

by harrypottersavedmylife



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Career Change, M/M, Romance, Self-Loathing, intimacy issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-05-09 23:01:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 23,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5559014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harrypottersavedmylife/pseuds/harrypottersavedmylife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry was really tired of seeing Draco’s earnest face staring out of the Daily Prophet. Today, Draco was giving an interview on the marginalization – yeah, Draco used the word in his interview- of hags. Wasn’t Harry supposed to be the good guy and Draco supposed to be a bad one? Harry and Draco meet again many years after the war and find that nothing is what it once seemed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Propositions Old and New

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all, this is my first fanfic, so I may be doing everything wrong. But still really wanted to share this. This is the first chapter with a few more to go. Updated as and when I get some time from work. 
> 
> PS: Don't own any of the characters. All belong to the Goddess J K Rowling and her colleagues.
> 
> #I also wanted to say that although I am updating this fic after 6 months, writing this fic has changed my life. I have got over many of my issues and my writing has improved considerably. My boss said that my last report was written much better. However, I can improve still further so if you spot any consistent language mistakes, please do let me know.
> 
> ##I would also appreciate issues with the story.

CHAPTER 1: PROPOSITIONS OLD AND NEW

It was late when Harry reached the Ministry. Everyone seemed to have gone home. Harry settled himself down at the Auror office reception and waited for the field report forms to pop into his hands. It was required that these forms be filled by an auror upon returning from a field trip before he or she went home so that his or her observations were not contaminated by casual conversations or conveniences.

As Harry waited, his eye fell on a Daily Prophet lying on the coffee table and his stomach gave a lurch. It was Draco Malfoy again, talking about something earnest, in an earnest fucking manner, and moving his hands in an earnest fucking way.

Harry was really tired of seeing Draco’s earnest fucking face staring out of the Daily fucking Prophet. Not that Harry was jealous of his fame or high regard, he just could not bear how fulfilled Draco looked.

Unable to stop himself, though, Harry reached for the paper. Draco, it seemed, had just finished a book (another fucking one!) on the lives of the vampires of North Africa. In the featured interview, he was pontificating about the prejudices that wizard-folk felt towards these nomadic vampires. Hermione, sitting beside him, looked outraged at the institutionalized mistreatment he was speaking about. Draco was explaining the history of why Wizarding Britain felt the way it did and what could be done to counteract it. What a load of guilt-laden liberal hoo-ha! Harry knew the nomadic vampires of North Africa, knew them very well in fact, having had to infiltrate their tribe a few years back, and was not buying any of this.

Harry threw the newspaper back on the coffee table. How the tables had turned. Death Eater, Pureblood propagandist Draco Malfoy representing the oppressed, while he, Harry Potter and saviour of the Wizarding World, whose primary weapon against Voldemort had been effing LOVE, and who knew all about marginalized magic like children’s tales and elf magic was a Stunning, Bodybinding, Azkaban-sending auror!

And fuck Hermione for looking so sanctimonious sitting next to Draco! He was fed up of a world where Draco was a good guy and had friends and a noble mission, while Harry was a cog who spent all his time on squidgely infested beds eating uncooked yam. He was going to fill up his field-report forms, eat treacle tart, go home, and have a shower (hot! With high water pressure!), and sleep on clean squidgely-free sheets.  
-x-

When Harry got home to Grimmauld Place, there were three owls waiting for him. They were perched on his window-sill and looked sleepy. They might have been there for days. The owls rushed to Harry's fingers when they saw him- they must have been starving. Poor things!

In the old days, Kreature would have kept them fed, but Harry could not bear being served and had packed him off to Hogwarts for good. It was better for Kreature but probably not for the owls. Unlike most owls, owls addressed to those on high-priority auror missions could not find their target aurors as this may compromise the aurors' location. Instead, they were redirected to the aurors’ homes. It was a fucking Creatures’ Rights travesty that the owls had to starve while they waited in the house. What if Harry hadn’t returned home for another month?

Harry gathered some owl treats in his hand and reached out for the most wretched looking owl first. He recognized her, of course. It was Pigwidgeon. Ron must have owled. The note was brief-“ _Mate! Long time! Let’s hang once your mission is over_!”

Oh, just a ‘keeping in touch’ owl, then. And to torture Pig for that! But, knowing Ron, he had probably not even paused to think about it.

The next owl was a small, unknown barn owl, which meant it must be from Ministry premises. Harry gave the grateful but dignified owl a treat and read the message from Hermione.

“ _Harry! I’m worried about you. I know you’re out there fighting the “bad” guys, but that doesn’t mean you don’t have time for tea with Hagrid or a drink with Ron. We’re all STILL worried about you. And I’ve sent an anti-squidgely bedspread to help on your travels because I KNOW you won’t meet us before your next mission._ ”

Harry noticed a small package tied to the leg of the bird and pulled it off. The anti-squidgely bedspread was gossamer, like his invisible cloak, and light- it wouldn’t even need to be shrunk to fit in his pockets. He opened it with satisfaction and clucked. It was a fantastic gift. Harry felt a pang of regret for not meeting Ron and Hermione anymore, but they were so carefree and sanctimonious respectively that he couldn’t bear to meet them.

It hadn’t always been like this. Harry had felt so much pressure from the public to be the Hero after the war, that he had followed the easiest path available to him and became an auror. He spent his days following troublesome magical creatures in the forests of Russia or the deserts of North Africa and had also had to spend one memorable 6-month period in Antarctica. He had seen so much and had been so many people in his life that he had no common ground with his friends any more. And the way his mind worked now- Harry shook his head- he didn’t want to think about _that_ now.

It had even taken a toll on his love life. His last girlfriend, Peruvia, had just sort of faded away because he never managed to owl her back in less than a week.

The third owl looked at Harry with such an intense, regal glare that you could easily forget that he, too, must have been starving. Harry pulled the letter from his legs and saw an unfamiliar handwriting-

“ _Dear Harry,_  
_This is Draco Malfoy. You may not be aware but I have become a conflict reporter now and have published a few books on the unforgivable mistreatment of many of our magical brethren. The best received was an account of the difficulties British hags faced in trying to rent accommodation in Wizarding Britain. I am happy to report that this led to changes in Wizarding Law and hags legally face no prejudice in finding homes, although as I’m sure you’re aware, legal protection is not the same as actual protection._

_I write to you today because of the work you have done with the giants of Sweden. I believe you spent over a year with them a few years back. I have recently returned from a three-month long visit with them and they spoke often of you. I feel you may have many insights to share with me on their lives and on the challenges they face in their isolation._

_I wonder whether it would be possible for you to meet with me sometime to discuss these issues. I hope that this will lead to a better book that could have a long-lasting impact on giant lives._

_Look forward to hearing from you,_  
_Best regards_  
_Draco_  
_PS: It has been years, Potter!_ ”

When Harry put the letter down, the owls had already flown away. Draco Malfoy wanted to meet him to discuss- _what_ \- giant welfare?  
-x-

It had been five years since Harry had seen Draco in the flesh, and maybe eight or nine years since they had last spoken. No, wait, there was that brief correspondence initiated by Hermione about three years ago when they had both been in the Peruvian Amazon. But that had only been one or two lines by owl.

Draco had changed so much since then- had probably already changed so much by the time he was living with the shamans in Machu Pichu. Harry himself had changed so much since Peru. In fact, he had changed so much since last year. Since three months ago, in fact.

As Harry finally took his long-desired shower with high water pressure, his thoughts drifted towards his last memory of speaking with Draco. It had been a year after the war and Draco had come to his table at the Leaky Cauldron.

“Potter, do you have a minute?” Draco had said, looking frightened.

Harry had already long forgiven Draco for his Death Eater “adventure” and for the constant heckling in school, but they weren’t friends. When Draco approached him, Harry had been surprised but had indicated with his hands that he was at a table with his friends and that Draco could join them.

“No, this is private,” Draco had said, swallowing noisily.

Harry had got up then, and Draco had directed him towards a quiet alcove away from the others.

“I am really sorry but I have to say this,” Draco had started immediately as they reached the alcove. Harry quickly cast a Muffliato charm, as Draco could not have known it as he had not spent a year obsessed with the Prince’s book, and it sounded to Harry like what Draco had to say might be embarrassing or dangerous.

Draco acknowledged the charm with a nod, swallowed, and continued, “Would you like to go out with me?”

Harry was too shocked for words and croaked.

Draco looked around in panic and seemed to regain his senses.

“Yes, Potter, I am madly in love with you,” he spoke now with a taunting sneer. “You saved my life. You’re a hero. Who wouldn’t want you? So.” Draco drawled. Then, he looked anxious again. “So, are you interested in going out with me?” He finished quickly.

Harry was flabbergasted and stared at Draco. Draco’s cheeks were flushed pink and his eyes were darting around. He wouldn’t make eye contact with Harry.

Harry looked around to check if this was a joke. Draco’s face darkened. “Right,” Draco said. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

And Draco walked out. Draco propositioned Harry and then walked out of Harry’s life completely. When Harry ran into Draco in subsequent years, Draco rolled his eyes, sniggered and talked to whomever was with Harry at the time, while pointedly ignoring him.

Draco also dated. He was always in a serious relationship that had already lasted a year and everyone thought he would marry the witch or wizard he was currently with, but then something would happen and Draco would be off and onto someone else.

Harry had wondered for some time after the “event” whether Draco’s offer had been genuine. For a while, he vacillated between yes and no but now too much water had flown under that bridge and they had grown up. Draco was in a well-publicized relationship with a witch for three years now and people were certain that, this time, marriage was just around the corner.

This time, the relationship was well-publicized for a reason. Two years earlier, the witch Draco was dating had been attacked by Fenrir Greyback. No one knew the extent of the damage- whether she was just scarred or whether she had been turned- but Draco had stood by her, publicly deriding those who felt that, as a wizard, he was too good for her now. Harry also felt that this must have motivated Draco’s best-selling and Magic Award winning book on werewolves that came out the previous year.

Basically, it seemed that Draco had become a really admirable person and it bugged the hell out of Harry because he had gone in exactly the opposite direction.

As he reached this thought, Harry realized that his penis had hardened. The effing erection refused to go down even when Harry dried himself strategically with his own clean, fluffy towels. In the end, Harry slammed his hardened penis into his pants and went to bed on his own clean sheets, determined not to think of Draco. This was imperative because he knew that if you wanked to someone, it was obvious the next time you met them, and he didn’t want his sexual hope to shine when he met the fucking, righteous, prick.  
-x-


	2. Reunion # 1

CHAPTER 2: REUNION # 1

Harry reached the pokey coffee shop ten minutes early. It was one where he often went undercover to meet suspects. Today, Harry had decided to dress like he didn’t care- in a T-shirt and jeans- and although the broom ride on the way over had ruffled his hair, he didn’t fix it.

At the coffee shop, Harry felt restless. He ordered coffee and sat down determined to drink it, but try as he might, he could not appear casual. Having nothing better to do, Harry thought he might go to the bathroom to have a look at his hair. He may even try to fix it.

The bathroom in this muggle coffee shop was disgusting. Water pooled around his feet, and the flush didn’t seem to work, and now that he looked, the water on the floor was suspiciously yellow.

Harry reached for his wand to Scourgify the place but the wand slipped out of his pocket and fell in the- bloody fucking hell- yellow liquid that covered floor. Fuck and Double Fuck!

Harry ran out of the bathroom for help. The muggle boy at the till was around twenty five and looked good in his black apron. When Harry asked for help in the bathroom, he smirked at Harry appreciatively. “Something important in the bathroom?” he asked with a smile. “Of course”.

He followed Harry into the bathroom enthusiastically but was struck silent on seeing the wand on the toilet floor. “And this is an emergency? I thought you’d dropped your phone or something.”

“How do I pick it up? I don’t want to touch all this piss.”

“Are you taking the piss?”

“No. I just want my wand.”

“Right. Are you taking the piss?”

Gah! Harry reached for some toilet paper so that he could pick up his wand.

“You ARE taking the piss! _Mummy_ will buy you a new wand, you git! Let this one go.”

Harry ignored the sarcastic bastard and positioned himself to pick the thing up. The muggle boy grabbed his shoulders and pulled him back. “Don’t”.

“Wha-“, started Harry but the muggle boy shoved a tenner into Harry's pocket and whispered in his ear. “Buy yourself a new one, mate. My gift.”

Although disoriented, Harry grabbed the wand and placed it under the faucet and let the water run. The boy staggered back. “Gross, dude. I’m out.” Harry heard him muttering “fucking weirdos” all the way out to the till.

Harry grabbed a piece of toilet paper to dry his wand and followed the boy out. He had barely taken a step towards the till, when he saw Draco Malfoy standing outside. Draco was staring straight at an irate muggle boy and a flustered Harry emerging from a filthy public toilet.

Harry had no time to think. “Great, you’re here already,” he exclaimed quickly and pulled Draco into a warm, friendly hug. Harry noticed that Draco was uncomfortable in the hug. He chose to ignore this information and continued. “So long. So long, mate!” he said as he directed Draco towards the table where he had been sitting.

“What was all that about?” Draco asked with a disdainful look once he had settled himself into the seat opposite Harry’s.

“These muggles. Dropped my wand in the piss back there and he wouldn’t help me pick it up!”

Draco looked suspiciously at the wand now placed on the table between them and recoiled slightly. “Your piss or someone else’s?”

“Just whoever’s was on the bathroom floor.”

Draco shuddered, and looked horrified that he had already hugged Harry.

“Oh, grow up,” said Harry. “So, what is it you wanted to talk to me about?”

Draco held up one finger to give himself a minute as he reached into his satchel for a clean parchment and an expensive looking quill.

“You’re going to write down what I say?”

“That’s the protocol, generally,” said Draco, one eyebrow raised. “Don’t worry. I won’t quote you without your consent.”

“Okay. So…” started Draco, looking carefully at another parchment that was filled with scrawled notes. Harry took the time to finally allow himself to look at Draco.

Draco had really grown up since Harry had last had the chance to observe him. He was dressed in a white linen shirt, with an open collar that displayed his prominent collar bones, and which allowed his golden hairs to peep out confidently. His shirt sleeves were folded up till the elbows, and revealed nothing but strong forearms. He looked handsome, and confident and open. He had made his mark on the world and was meeting everyone as an equal. He was still as blond as ever although he had allowed his hair to grow out. There was also a light blond fuzz on his chin. The git- probably trying to show the world that he didn’t have time for petty things like grooming when there were magical creatures being mistreated all around the world.

“Yep, what I wanted to first understand was…” Draco started. Harry interrupted him. It had been too long for them to launch directly into work.

“So, Malfoy, what’s been up?”

Draco looked up, quirking his eyebrows.

“I mean, what’s going on? It’s been so long.”

“Well, as I wrote in my letter…”

“I know what you wrote in your letter. I knew those things already. You can barely keep out of the papers.”

A bright red blush flew into Draco’s cheeks, but faded away immediately as he adopted a more studied expression. “Well since you know everything of any importance about me anyway, what do you want me to say?”

“You know, why are people always bugging me about trying to emulate you?”

There was no mistaking the blush this time. “People ask YOU to emulate ME? For real?” Draco looked genuinely astonished.

“I know. Since when are you the better man?”

Draco snorted. “Since always, Potter, but people only seem to be picking up on it recently.”

“Oh come on. I was pretty spectacular as a child!”

Draco looked incredulous. “I didn’t think the great Harry Potter would himself succumb to Pottermania!”

“I am being honest. I didn’t think so at the time, but when I look back now, I can’t believe that person was me. I could never do any of those things now. So, objectively, I was pretty spectacular.”

“People told me, mistakenly I guess now, that you were a modest sort of bloke.”

“I don’t know about modest, but I try to be real. I know what I am now so I can appreciate what I was. How do you do it? Still out there, so certain in your convictions?”

“Well, I am not just doing it for myself, am I? I am serving the Magical Community.”

“How do you know you’re serving it and not harming it?”

“I don’t know. But you’ve got to try your best and give it your all.”

“And you’re happy? You’ve got what you want out of life?”

Draco paused for a minute. He looked meditative. “I mean, I’ve got a lot, given where I’d reached. I’m grateful.”

“Is it worth it? You could have fallen madly in love and made a little love nest with someone and been hugged and kissed forever afterwards. Instead you’re out there fighting thankless battles?”

Draco looked a little thrown off by that but recovered. “Who decides what is worth having? Maybe trying to do a little good is better than wanting to be loved.”

“So you decided that being seen as a good man was more important than being loved?”

“Potter,” Draco leaned forward suddenly. “I have both. I am a good man and I have love.”

“Right, sorry, I forgot,” said Harry in a small voice. Harry had forgotten that. Draco did have it all. A witch who he fought for, and a cause that he’s still fighting for. Harry on the other hand had neither. All of a sudden, he didn’t want to do this interview any more.

“Go on with your questions then,” Harry hissed, breathlessly.

Draco looked at him carefully, then dropped his eyes to his scrolls. “Well, to start with, I wanted your general impressions of the giant community in Sweden. Do you think they have a good life?”

“I think, given the circumstances, they have the best life they could have.”

“Meaning?”

“They’re isolated but it’s as it should be?”

“You think it is okay that two hundred giants live in twenty hectares of forests, and they’re scared of moving out because wizards hunt them? That, as a result, they’re inbred and their infants are dying of genetic diseases?”

“They can’t be free to roam. The wizards will kill them.”

“Couldn’t the wizards be banned from killing them?”

“The wizards ARE banned from killing them, but who will argue with wizarding families that have lived there for three hundred years and remember the giants eating their children?”

“But they haven’t eaten a child in over fifty years!”

“They ate three the year I was there. We hushed it up to keep the peace.”

“And you saw this personally?”

“Err. No.”

“Then you just heard it. I was also told that they eat five human babies a year but where’s the evidence?”

“The Auror Department keeps a meticulous record of feedings, and memory modifications and compensations. So I know that there are around two to five feedings a year.”

Draco looked at Harry astonished. “You’re for real?”

“What do you mean?”

“The one who sacrificed himself for humanity believes that giants isolated in a twenty hectare plot are feeding on babies and should be kept isolated as a result?”

“I grew up and saw the data behind the emotions.”

Draco stood up. “Sorry, Harry. I don’t think this is going to work. You know how highly I’ve always thought of you, but I don’t think you can help me with this book.”

Harry leaned back, astonished. He had fallen so much that _Draco_ was leaving? Before he could respond though, Draco had left the coffee shop.  
-x-

Harry was very tired when he got home that evening.

Draco had always thought highly of Harry and now thought so lowly of him that he couldn’t bear to talk to him for more than five minutes.

Had Harry been wrong about the giants? He knew the giants. They were obsessed with eating human children to protect themselves against illnesses. Not all giants, but enough that Harry had spent his entire year with the giants trying to build support for those giants who believed their problems could be solved through other means.

Damn Draco and his guilt! It had left Draco a slave to seeing things in only one kind of light. Guilt-free, ‘good’ Harry did not have that same restriction and could now see things for what they were. But he was damned if he was going to let Draco make him feel bad about his hard-won wisdom about the world.

Harry Accioed fresh bread and spread Marmite on two slices. Oh, for the simple pleasures. Food that he liked and then the thought of clean red sheets on his bed and the hot shower in his bathroom.

He had given up his life for this. So that all others may live in an evil-free world. How had he done it? He could easily do it again if he was sure about the side he was on. There was so little worth living for. But was it worth it to sacrifice oneself for creatures that would eat babies at the drop of a hat?

Where had his benevolence gone? Why did he always find himself calculating the good and the bad? Why couldn’t he just jump into what was right the way he used to?

But he knew his actions had not been dictated by what was right even when he was a child. Harry had already known that Dumbledore had betrayed him when he walked into the forest. Why had he still done it?

Maybe because then, just as now, he knew there was no one alive who loved him unconditionally. He had so much love inside him, so much love to give, but whomever he gave it to would die. Since he couldn’t count on anyone being there to receive his love, he had just given it to the universe by sacrificing himself.

Harry had finished eating his toast and was now lying on his clean bed. A clean, cold bed with no one in it. No lover had wanted to stay. Harry had told people he loved them, and they said no thanks. Or they died. Or it turned out that they were just using him for something. Like Dumbledore.

Harry squeezed his eyes shut. It still hurt to think of Dumbledore. He had honestly believed that Dumbledore loved him but Dumbledore had only been interested in manipulating Harry’s love. Dumbledore had probably made Harry stay at the Durseley’s so that he would be starved for affection and willing to love Dumbledore when Harry finally met him. Dumbledore had made sure that many things went Harry’s way easily, only to succour Harry into loving Dumbledore unconditionally and to become a tool in Dumbledore's hands.

Harry had never really had anyone on his side. Not Sirius- who died so quickly. For a brief while there, Harry had had someone he could talk to outside Hogwarts who was all his own, but it didn’t last. Not Molly- who, although she had tried to protect him and made him feel a mother’s love, had probably only loved him as part of the general Weasley benevolence towards all. Not Lupin- who was one of his father’s closest mates. Lupin could have visited Harry while he was at the Durseley’s. Lupin barely interacted with Harry even after they had met, and he had found a family of his own in the end.

Harry knew he was fortunate. Many had sacrificed themselves for him. But it wasn’t really for Harry the person but Harry the concept. Dobby had only ever thought of Harry as a saviour and not as a human being. Snape had protected Harry through begrudging duty and McGonagall had only supported Harry when she thought he was doing something on Dumbledore’s orders. Sirius would have loved him and had loved him but Sirius loved Harry as long as Harry reminded him of James. Harry never really had anyone to call his own for his own sake.

Harry tossed around on his cold bed. Why was he doing this? Who was he saving the Wizarding World for? For his legions of fans? What was he getting out of it? Terrible food, discomfort, and loneliness. And no matter what he did, how much he sacrificed, no one ever loved him back for himself. Was a purpose worth it when there was no one to love you?

Harry saw his life with crystal clarity now. A tool put on this Earth. He had been loved by his parents, sure, but he had really and truly been alone after they died. He, alone, had given himself unconditional hugs and kisses and pats on the back. Molly had given him hugs and Ginny had given him kisses but these were not something he could hold onto forever. Had they ever been his own? Although Molly tried, it just wasn’t the same with her since he broke up with Ginny. Affections drifted and were not long-lasting or exclusive like family.

Harry thought with envy of those who seemed to have it so easy. Of his parents, James and Lily, who had such a different lot in their lives. Sure, their lives had been short, but they walked into school with the arrogance (James!) and confidence (Lily!) of well-loved children, and found lovers who would sacrifice themselves for their love. Of his friends, Ron and Hermione, who also led such easy, well-loved lives, and could go forth from there to find a loving partner. Of Draco, who despite all his crimes, always knew that someone (his parents!) would love him no matter what, and had proceeded to take on the world from there and get others to love him. It didn’t matter what these people did, someone would always love them, and this gave them the confidence to be loved by others. They didn’t have to grapple with whether they were happy or comfortable, or of use to society!

But why, given his lack of love, had the less-loved never taken to him either? Snape never seemed to feel an ounce of compassion for him. And Petunia? Less-loved and his own flesh and blood. Why had she not felt a connection? She had set herself up for a life that was the complete opposite of what she had initially found herself compelled towards, and determined to hate all that she had admired.

Harry’s heart skipped a beat. Had he become her? Steadfastly determined to deny magic in his life? Shaming those who still felt some magic? Harry recalled his conversation with Draco and felt a lurch of recognition. He had hated that Draco had it all, hated his sense of fulfilment. He had tried to deny Draco his feelings of adequacy by pointing out the foolishness of his stance towards giants.

Harry’s heart skipped another beat. He was reminded of someone else now. If Harry didn’t make an effort now, he would become Snape. There would be no one around to appreciate him or hug him, and his only purpose in life on Earth would be to perform a function.

“No, that’s not true,” Harry’s panicked mind responded. He always had Ron and Hermione. They had loved him for no reason. Maybe he needed to see them again since they had truly liked and loved him, and probably still did despite the fact that he thought giants needed to remain on a twenty hectare forest preserve. They had their own little unit now but they had loved him. He really should go and see them.

And Hagrid. He should see Hagrid too.  
-x-


	3. Reunion # 2

CHAPTER 3: REUNION # 2

“Harry!” exclaimed Hermione as she opened the door to her house.

“Blimey! You’re here!” exclaimed Ron, popping up right behind her.

Hermione pulled Harry through the door and into a tight hug. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“I wasn’t dead or anything,” muttered Harry as he emerged from Hermione’s hug, and walked into their cosy apartment.

Ron gave him a pointed look. “You might as well have been, mate! You might as well have been.”

“I’m getting you a drink,” Ron said as he pushed Harry onto the sofa. “And myself. Hermione, you?”

Hermione gave Harry a cushion to tuck behind himself. “Yes, I’ll have a drink too. Just plain fire whiskey for me tonight, Ron.”

Harry sat on the sofa, a cushion tucked behind him and took it all in. It felt like home- Hermione clucking with an overthrow she was trying to spread across both of them and Ron rummaging in the kitchen. Harry smiled.

Hermione looked at his smile and smirked. “Some good news?”

“As if,” replied Harry.

Ron emerged from the kitchen levitating three glasses filled with drinks. Two of the glasses had pink steam rising out of them. “What’s this?” said Ron, “Some good news? Oh, and Harry, tell me what you think of the drink. The pink one. My new concoction.”

“I asked Harry if there was any good news and he said ‘as if’, as if he could ever have ANY good news,” said Hermione drily.

“No way, mate,” said Ron, sprawling out on the couch between Harry and Hermione, and tucking the overthrow over his legs. “Everyone has good news sometimes. Even well-loved world saviours like you.” Noticing Harry’s instant look of revulsion, though, Ron exchanged a quick look with Hermione and added, “Oh, sorry, I forgot. We’re not allowed to remember that you saved the wizarding world. Sorry.”

Harry grinned. “No, it’s okay but that was another person.” He paused, then added, “I’m no longer that Harry Potter. I’m…” he hesitated, “I’m someone else.”

“So what? I’m no longer seventeen year old Ron Weasley but the Hermione I snagged as a seventeen year old is still with me,” protested Ron.

Hermione blushed and looked at Ron fondly. “And I’m no longer seventeen year old Hermione. People change and grow up, Harry. It’s alright.”

“I met Draco Malfoy today,” said Harry quietly. “He’s grown up. I…” he faltered, “I’ve regressed.”

“That git,” started Ron but Hermione stopped him gently by placing a hand on his arm. “Harry, Draco is not you. He’s followed his own trajectory,” Hermione said.

Harry started to respond to that but couldn’t form appropriate words.

“If it’s any help, I can’t stand the sanctimonious bastard either,” said Ron, looking at Hermione defiantly. “Come on, Hermione. He’s a class cunt!”

Hermione recoiled. “Your choice of words, Ron. Ugh!”

But Ron had already made Harry feel better. He was not the only one NOT impressed with Draco Malfoy.

“He owled me the other day,” ventured Harry. “He wanted to talk about giant welfare in Sweden.”

“Really?” exclaimed Ron, delighted. “He wrote you a letter? Dear Potter and all?”

“He wrote Dear Harry actually.”

Ron snorted. “Dear Harry,” he repeated in the voice of a besotted girl.

Harry blushed.

“Ohmygod! He did write it like an infatuated school girl? I always felt he was hot for you.”

Hermione gave Ron a disdainful look. “Not everything is about sex, Ron.”

Ron exchanged a look with Harry. “No Hermione, everything IS about sex. So, Harry, then?”

“Well, actually, he wrote the letter as if he barely knew me. All formal like I’m some sort of an expert and he needed my five bullet points.”

“Interesting,” said Ron, raising an eyebrow. “Doesn’t seem like his style.”

“Yes, that is interesting,” said Hermione quietly. “Then, Harry? What did you do?”

“I met him today,” said Harry. He could see Ron begin another one of his takes on girls fawning over Harry. To prevent that, Harry added quickly, “But he left almost immediately because he was disgusted- no- APPALLED at my views.”

Hermione sighed. “Why? What did you say? I can already guess what he thinks.”

Harry mumbled. “I don’t want to talk about it. Not with you, Hermione.”

Hermione pursed her lips. Ron looked at Hermione, then at Harry, then back again at Hermione, undecided about whose side he was supposed to take. Harry looked away. He shouldn’t make things awkward with the only people who loved him for himself but he didn’t have the energy to defend his points now.

Ron broke the impasse. “Err… We had ordered some Chinese. Let me go get it from the kitchen. Enough for all three of us, Harry!”

Ron scrambled to get up off the sofa when Hermione spoke. “Try me, Harry. You don’t know what I’m going to say.”

Hermione’s face looked pinched but her big brown eyes were filled with affection as she looked at Harry. Harry’s stomach dropped. He didn’t want to lose that. Ever.

“I said that the giants are alright as they are in Sweden because they could be killed outside their preserve since they’re still eating babies.”

“What?” exclaimed Ron, falling back on the sofa. “The giants are eating muggle babies?”

“Wizard babies as well,” said Harry, stealing a quick glance at Hermione. Ron also looked at Hermione for her reaction, waiting to see how he should react.

“Alright,” said Hermione. “Fair point. I’m sure you know what you’re saying, since you lived with them and all.”

Harry was surprised and his relief soared and spread across every inch of his body. He croaked. “You’re alright with this?”

Hermione nodded. “I’m always alright with you. Nothing you say can change that.”

“But…” Harry started. “But are you okay with the content of what I said or are you okay just because it’s me?”

“I don’t know about the content because I don’t know much about giants first hand.” Hermione paused. “Other than Grawp, and he was a terror,” she shuddered.

“And only a miniature giant,” added Ron helpfully.

“Yes, and he wasn’t even a normal giant,” agreed Hermione. “I only know what I read, Harry. And we all know how trustworthy reports can be. You lived with them, so you may know better. Or you may…” she stopped.

“What?” barked Harry. “Or I may... what?”

Hermione didn’t respond.

Harry concluded her thoughts. “Or I may think badly about everyone? I have no charity? I dwell on the negative?”

Hermione sighed.

Ron came to the rescue. “You ARE an auror, mate! You look to lock people up. You can’t help it.”

Ron had said it. He had said what Harry hoped no one would ever say. He had become an awful person. Harry dropped his face in his hands and groaned. “I think I’m having a nervous breakdown. I hate what I’ve become. I have horrible thoughts about everything and I can’t give anyone the benefit of the doubt. It’s driving me mad.”

Harry felt soft hands prise his hands away from his face as he was pulled into an embrace. “There there,” clucked Hermione. “It’s not the end of the world.”

“I hated being an auror, too, mate!” added Ron. “Hated being the face of doom. Telling people what’s right and what’s wrong. It was driving me mad.”

“Yes, Ron is much better as …” Hermione looked at Ron for his help. “I forget what I’m supposed to call you now. Not a joke-shop entrepreneur, but?”

“Nah, that’s just a day job,” said Ron dismissively. “I’m a cocktail inventor.”

“Right,” said Hermione with a small smile over Harry’s head. “See. Ron is happy as a cocktail inventor even though no one has ever bought a drink from him and he left the aurors years ago.”

“I did, too,” protested Ron. “I catered the cocktails at Ginny’s wedding last month, didn’t I?”

“She’s your sister, Ron.”

“So what? She demands quality service just like anyone else.”

“Yeah, I should know,” said Harry sheepishly, emerging from Hermione’s embrace with a grin.

“Oh, thank Merlin, you’re back,” exclaimed Ron. “I’m starving and am going to go get the food now.”

Ron got up but Hermione still held Harry tightly. “Harry, if you think you’re going through a nervous breakdown, we’ll get you through it. You know we both are always there for you.”

Harry sank deeper into Hermione’s embrace and felt a warmth surround him. Yes, he knew.

-x-


	4. Scribbles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to Aphistas for the encouragement.

CHAPTER 4: SCRIBBLES

There was another owl from Draco waiting when Harry returned from his next auroring mission. It had been another routinely uncomfortable one. He had to infiltrate the ghost pirates of the Bermuda triangle. These notorious pirates had held the sea to ransom in the middle ages but had since lost their influence as they squabbled with the merpeople. Now that merpopulations were down due to collisions with muggle ships, the ghost pirates were becoming powerful again. This time, they targeted muggle airplanes. Harry had found this trip excruciating as there had been no water to drink because his hosts, the ghost pirates, did not need to drink water. Harry’s stomach still turned at all the sea water he had had to drink. Even after distillation, the water tasted like brine.

Draco’s message this time was more to the point:

“ _Dear Harry,_

_Thank you for meeting me the other day._

_I am having trouble talking to the giants of Northern Sweden as they do not trust outsiders. However, they speak highly of you. Would it be possible for you to introduce me to them? Despite our contrary views on the subject, I trust you would be open to alternative narratives on the subject, and this would go a long way in ensuring that._

_Thanks and look forward to hearing from you,_  
_Best regards_  
_Draco Malfoy_ ”

Harry was struck by the – snarky- no- absolute indifference to Harry’s feelings in this letter. What did Draco think? How did he think he could get away without the least effort at politeness? Harry decided to ignore the regal, fucking owl. And- Fuck Draco!

Instead, Harry returned to a task he had started on his latest trip- compiling a list of things he liked to do- as recommended by Ron and Hermione, but mostly Hermione.

Harry looked down at the list he had compiled so far. First on the list was Quidditch, but he knew that wasn’t an option on an auroring mission as it needed other players. Other nations weren’t as hot on Quidditch as Europe and South America.

The second item on his list was Wizard Chess, but Harry crossed it out now. He enjoyed Wizard Chess to pass the time but it was not something he would do on his own, without the satisfaction of knowing that playing Wizard Chess was making someone else very happy.

This led Harry to a new thought. He may not have liked Wizard Chess so much, but he liked playing it in the Gryffindor common room, where he could sit cosy and warm by the fire, and rehash the same old conversations with Ron, Hermione, Dean or Seamus. Maybe, what he really liked was hanging out in the Gryffindor common room.

Happy with the thought, Harry wrote down _Hanging out in the Gryffindor common room_ as the new number 2 on this list. But, as he wrote it, he realized that Hogwarts was over now. Fred and George weren’t playing pranks anymore and Lee Jordan was not looking so cool that Harry felt exciting things lay ahead.

Maybe, Harry thought, he just liked hanging out. But that was also not possible on a mission where he rarely knew anyone beforehand. In London, too, most of his old schoolmates had moved on and some were married now.

Harry changed his entry to _Hanging out_ , but he did feel a stab of nostalgia crossing out Gryffindor common room. He had loved the Gryffindor common room with its smuggled firewhiskeys and butterbeers, its impromptu parties, its long hours of kissing Ginny…

Ah! Harry had another one. As number 3 on his list, Harry wrote down _Kissing_. Not snogging, which was so public and seemed to be aimed at proving a point to casual observers- like Ron and Lavender in sixth year or Ginny and her ex-boyfriends. What Harry liked was slow, tender kissing where you don’t want time to intrude.

Nope, thought Harry, he liked the intense ones as well, where you just can’t get enough of the other person and you are compelled to smash your mouth into theirs. That was fun, too.

Harry sighed as he thought about kissing. Kissing was another activity that was not possible on a mission.

Harry looked down at his list now: _1\. Quidditch, 2. Hanging out, 3. Kissing_. This was quite a sad list as all the items on it needed other people, and the other people had to be ones that Harry was comfortable with and loved. Again, he thought, not possible on a mission.

There had to be something he liked to do alone? What else was he good at? Defence against the Dark Arts? No, that had been a necessity in school, and was part of his job anyway. What else?

What did he do all those years in Privet Drive when no one else was around? During his Hogwarts years, he had spent his summers pining for his friends. But in those years, he had already known that options better than Privet Drive existed. What did he do in the years before Hogwarts?

Nothing, said a small voice inside Harry’s head. Harry had done absolutely nothing but sit around and day dream about a mother, a father and some friends.

So, basically, all Harry had ever wanted was friends and family and to be loved. And all the things he liked to do were related with that. And through all his years in this world, he had still not managed to get love. And, it seemed that he had never liked doing anything else. Harry was appalled at himself. He was pathetic.

Harry threw down his quill, shoved the piece of parchment into his pocket, and decided to take a walk down Diagon Alley to see what he liked. As far as he knew, even the material things he liked were related with his abominable list- brooms for Quidditch, sweets to share with friends, and gadgets to protect against the dark arts. Pathetic!

-x-

Out on Diagon Alley, the sun shone brightly. Harry shoved his hands in his pockets and strolled. When was the last time he had strolled?

Looking back, Harry had always been running away from something, or moving purposefully towards something. Had he ever put his hands in his pockets, let the sun shine on him, and stroll?

Memories of sitting by the lake at Hogwarts came back to him along with the laughing faces of Dean or Ron or - Harry stopped his thoughts. Again, it seemed to be an activity he did with friends.

Everyone else had their solitary pursuits- Hermione had her studies, Dean had his art, Luna had her imagination, Seamus- well. Harry couldn’t remember what Seamus did on his own. Sleep?

Harry looked around him, and found that in his stroll, he had now reached a muggle street just beyond Diagon Alley. This was a street he usually whizzed by- chasing Dark Wizards or on a purposeful shopping expedition- but seeing it today, he wondered why he had never stopped.

The street was pretty narrow because all the cafés had spilled out onto the street. There were sun-drenched tables and chairs laid out all along the sidewalk. At the tables, groups of girls giggled over their drinks, which had purple steam rising from them that Ron would be envious of. Men and women, in twos and threes, spoke intensely or frivolously over lattes or beer. And, on several tables, lone men and women just sat, nursing a drink, and reading a book or scribbling in a notebook. Some, just stared.

Harry found his heart beating faster at the sight of one bloke who sat with just a glass of water in front of him, as he stared into space, zoned out.

So purposeless! Was one allowed to be so purposeless? Harry gravitated towards his table.

The bloke, a slight man, with slightly long brown hair, and big brown eyes, was startled out of his reverie by Harry’s sudden intrusion. “Yes?” he asked, wide-eyed.

Harry was embarrassed. “No, nothing. I was just on my way into the café.”

“Oh,” the bloke smiled.

“Yes,” blustered Harry.

“Oh-kay,” said the bloke, nodding to the right. “That’s where you enter from.”

“Thanks,” said Harry gruffly, and walked towards the café entrance. He was reluctant to leave the sunshine behind but he had committed himself to entering the café. Harry took one last longing look at the sunny street, and saw that the slight, cute bloke was smiling at him.

-x-

Inside the café, Harry decided to order something he hadn’t tried before, and found himself with some spicy mix called chai latte. It was weird- and gingery- but it made him feel warm and festive. On the whole, he didn’t regret it.

However, he found with regret, that although he wanted to purposelessly daze, that wasn’t a possibility inside the café. There was no view of the outside from within the café, and there were no other patrons as foolish as him to sit indoors on a day like this. Quickly bored, Harry retrieved the crumpled parchment from his pocket and laid it before him on the table.

Harry sighed. He didn’t want to think about this. It seemed like such a chore. He turned the parchment over and doodled on it instead. Maybe that was something he liked to do? Doodling? Nah, said an amused voice in his head. Stretching it a bit there, eh, mate?

Harry scratched out his doodle and continued writing:

 _I like/ To ride a bike/ And eat a cike_ \- cake- Gah! That didn’t even rhyme. Pathetic!

Harry crumpled up the parchment.

“Aw,” said a voice above him. “That looked to be coming along as quite a nice poem.”

Harry looked up to see the boy from outside smirking down at him.

“And on really cool looking paper!” the boy gasped excitedly, as he grabbed the parchment. “Wow.” He squinted as his eye fell on Harry’s scrawls. “What’s Quidditch?”

Before Harry could reply, the boy whipped out a pen and wrote down his name “Derek” and a 10 digit number. Harry looked at the scribble in surprise. Was a bloke asking him out? He had never dated a bloke before.

Derek was talking again, in a gentle voice. “That poem looks really good, by the way. Don’t give up.”

With that, Derek started to walk away but stopped- “In fact, I have a great idea. Why don’t you have that ready by the time you call me?” And with an impish grin, he left.

-x-


	5. Rivals and Measures

CHAPTER 5: RIVALS AND MEASURES

Harry was still examining his parchment when he returned to his office. Well well well. He had never been asked out by a bloke before. That was new. And the bloke wasn’t bad looking, either. He shook his head but couldn’t help a grin. What a strange afternoon.

“I like to ride a bike and eat a cike,” read out a loud but incredulous voice near his shoulder. “What the fuck, Potter?”

Harry spun around to see Draco Malfoy in his office. Draco was dressed as he had been the last time they met. In a thin linen shirt, and muggle jeans slung low at the hip. His shirt was still open at his throat, and his confident blond chest hair still peeped out. Harry swallowed. “Who let you in?”

But Draco had snatched the parchment from Harry’s hand, and was turning it over eagerly. “What is this, Potter? This side says _Quidditch, hanging out, kissing_ …” he looked up expectantly. But getting no response, he continued. “And this other side has,” he turned the parchment over, and faked a gag, “that attempt at a poem.” He was about to start laughing when his eyes slipped lower down the parchment. “What is this? _Derek 2423_ … Oh,” he said dismissively, “some muggle’s phone number!”

Then suddenly, Draco looked up, his eyes widening with realization. He smirked and wagged his eyebrows. “Potter,” he purred. “What is this? Am I the first to know what you get up to in the afternoons on a working day?”

“Give it back to me, Malfoy.” Harry tried to snatch the parchment from Draco’s hands.

“What if I give you a cake- sorry- cike?” Draco guffawed. “Will you let me keep it, then?” Draco was reminding Harry more and more of the pre-Death Eater Draco. Always ready to hold onto someone’s weakness and bully them mercilessly for it. Maybe he hadn’t changed so much, after all. “I mean,” Draco said, batting his eyelids. “I have a poem written by the great Harry Potter!”

“Shut it,” said Harry, and Accioed the parchment, as he sat down at his desk. Harry’s desk and his office were dusty from disuse and piled high with parchments that Harry never had time to organize because of all his traveling.

“Very auror of you,” said Malfoy, sauntering towards Harry’s desk. Like the Hogwarts Draco, this Draco also seemed to be all about getting in Harry’s space.

“What do you want, Malfoy?”

“You forgot to send a reply when you sent back my owl this morning.”

“Oh, yeah, well.” Fuck Draco, if he thought Harry owed him an explanation.

“And?”

“I can’t help you, Malfoy. I’m very busy.”

“Harry, come on, think outside of yourself, and your cakes and your Dereks for a moment. There is a Creatures' Rights travesty happening out there.”

Harry raised his hand to stop Draco continuing. “We already had this discussion and YOU left.”

Something crossed Draco’s face, but he continued seamlessly. “I apologize. That was out of line. I was just so surprised…” he looked at Harry who had pursed his lips at that. “Sorry,” he ended quickly.

When Harry didn’t respond, Draco continued. “See,” said Draco, looking Harry full in the face now. “After my- well, you know- I just could not believe where I had slipped to and I realized that we are all in danger of slipping to abominable places unless there is information forcing us to think in other ways. I know you think in a certain way, and that’s probably the correct way…”

Harry’s heart stopped. Was Draco going to have this discussion with him? After all the shit that Draco himself had thought till his Death Eater days? Talking about Harry’s lack of compassion was out of bounds for Draco. In fact, how dare he?

Draco was still talking. “You’re an auror and, therefore, obviously know best”, he paused, waiting for a reaction. “But what’s the harm in seeing if there’s some other version of the story?”

Harry bristled. What did Draco think? Sarcastic fuck! What did he think? How could he walk into people’s offices and preach to them as if they had no compassion? Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him.

Harry got up and walked out of his office.

-x-

Why did Draco always make Harry so angry? Others had suggested similar things to Harry over the years, but why had Draco’s words sparked such a reaction?

Was it because Harry had considered Draco a rival once? Now, so many years later, Harry was upset because at some level, he had lost in the rivalry. Was Harry that petty?

Harry shook his head. It wasn’t possible. After all, for years, Harry hadn’t thought about Draco at all. But then, he had had Voldemort on his mind.

Harry shoved his hands deeper into his pockets as he strode down Diagon Alley in semi-darkness.

Actually, thought Harry, it wasn’t that Harry considered Draco a rival at all. It was more like he considered Draco a benchmark. A standard against which he measured himself.

Harry scratched his head. What did that even mean? He paused to watch the sun dip an inch in the horizon.

Draco, for all intents and purposes, was a representative of the judging public in Harry’s head. As a child, Harry had only known the Durseleys, and while Dudley could have become that representative from the judging public, it did not happen as Harry left Dudley behind in the muggle world. It was not possible for Dudley to represent the public as Harry and Dudley no longer inhabited the same world.

The friends Harry made in his first few years at Hogwarts – Ron, Hermione, Neville, etc. – could not represent the judging public either, as they became his friends and family, and he never felt any desire to impress them. The friends he made in later years- Luna, Cho, etc. – honestly wished him well. He could, therefore, not honestly consider them as outsiders. He could go to all these people in his times of trouble and know that they wished him well.

Draco, by token of not being Harry’s well-wisher in those early years, became a representative of the outside world in Harry’s mind. It wasn’t that he wished to impress Draco or anything, it was just that when thinking of his place in the outside world, Harry would see himself through Draco’s eyes.

Honestly, it could have been any of the other outsiders in Harry’s life – McLaggen, Smith, Finch-Fletchley – but Draco was the most prominent outsider in Harry’s early years. The others came later.

So, thought Harry, it was Draco’s douchebaggery that made Harry care so much about his words? Harry shook his head. Fuck me!

But Harry knew immediately that it wasn’t just that. Draco had been equal to Harry in so many ways. Draco had been as admired by his housemates as Harry, he had been as skilled at some classes as Harry, and had cultivated an equal number of Professors who loved him and loathed him as Harry. Draco was what Harry may have become in other circumstances. Also, given their relative positions in the war, it was likely that they went through similar life experiences.

And, Harry had to admit, Draco grew into a worthy benchmark. The other outsiders in his life dealt with things Harry didn’t care about – McLaggen was an ‘art’ dealer, Smith was a real estate agent, and Finch-Fletchley was a sportscaster. Seeing himself through Draco’s eyes was a more worthwhile exercise as Draco grappled with the same reality as Harry. Draco cared about his moral place in the world, and so did Harry. Therefore, seeing the morals in his actions through Draco’s eyes seemed logical.

But Draco had surpassed Harry in every way. Draco was fulfilled. He was sure about where he stood while Harry didn’t fit in anywhere any more. And more, Harry didn’t even know where he wanted to fit in and what he wanted. He didn’t know who he was anymore.

And, Draco seemed to have retained his original personality. Draco’s casual joking and teasing was what had most upset Harry.

So, in the end, the yardstick against which Harry measured himself had managed it all- he was well loved by his parents, he had earned the admiration of his peers, he felt he was engaged in a moral task, he still had the confidence for righteous anger, and most upsetting of all, he had retained his horrible personality. That – the evidence of the horrible personality still forcefully in action - cut Harry the most as it meant the world had not crushed Draco at all.

Meanwhile, Harry had no love, had lost his compassion, and knew – through looking from Draco’s eyes- that the outside world viewed him as compromised.

Hell! Harry couldn’t even find opportunities to do the three measly things he liked doing!

-x-


	6. Expanding the list

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains what some (including me) might consider mild vagina-hate. But please remember, this story is from Harry’s perspective, and we’re limited by his mental state at this time in the story. Any imbalance in the story-telling will be remedied in subsequent chapters.

CHAPTER 6: EXPANDING THE LIST

Harry sat across the table from Derek, as Derek selected a wine from the menu. It was later that evening, and they were seated in the outdoor café just off Diagon Alley where they had first met. Harry had decided that he was going to do one of the things he liked doing even if it was with a bloke.

“What?” Derek smiled, looking up from the menu. “Which world problem has caught your attention now?”

Harry held up his hands. “I do not- CANNOT – solve world problems.”

“I don’t believe you. You looked so serious, there.”

“Trust me,” said Harry, emphatically. “You don’t know.”

“So tell me,” said Derek, with a soft smile.

Harry looked at Derek, and hesitated. Derek knew nothing of Harry’s role as saviour of the Wizarding World, and would not interject with THAT nonsense. He also looked so soft and understanding, and looked at him so fondly. Maybe Harry could try talking about it.

Harry sighed. “See.”

Derek leaned forward and concentrated on Harry’s face.

“See. When I was younger, I cared a lot about right and wrong, and I tried to fight for what I thought was right.”

Derek nodded and waited.

“And now. Now, I don’t care so much. I don’t know what’s right and what’s wrong.”

Derek still waited, as if this couldn’t be the issue that Harry was worried about.

“And people who still think they’re doing what’s right, and” – Harry paused to roll his eyes here – “idiots who spent their lives doing bad things but are now doing what they think is right-“

“Yes?”

“Well, they irritate me,” Harry concluded.

Derek laughed. “That’s all? That’s what’s troubling you, you lost looking soul?” Derek leaned forward and shook Harry’s chin at that.

Harry paused. Was he a lost looking soul? “Err. Well. Yes.”

“But Harry,” said Derek, quietly. “People who think they know what’s right are always wrong.”

“No!” exclaimed Harry.

“Yes they are,” said Derek piously.

“But there are some objective rights and wrongs…” started Harry.

“Like what?” challenged Derek.

“Like…” Harry scratched his head. Like killing Voldemort. Like preventing the discrimination of muggleborns. Like… But he couldn’t say these to Derek who didn’t even know who Voldemort was.

“Exactly. You cannot name even one objective right and wrong.”

“What about killing people?” said Harry, thinking quickly.

“What if the people you kill have been trying to kill your family?” said Derek, quietly, again.

“What about killing babies? Come on, babies are innocent, and killing them is objectively wrong.” Harry strengthened his argument.

“Why would anyone kill babies? Only sociopaths kill babies. And being a sociopath is a medical condition,” said Derek, softly.

“Oh, so you can’t stop them?” Harry was now irritated. There was no arguing with his guy. He was so calm and gentle about everything.

“You can stop them, but you can’t blame them.”

Yikes! Even more of a bleeding heart than Hermione! “What if you don’t blame them, and agree that it is a sociopathic condition,” started Harry, reasonably. “But what if other people say that that is no reason to keep them away from babies.”

“Well, they’re stupid in that case,” Derek said, quickly. “Or, they don’t have babies.” Derek paused. “Anyway, that’s not happening anywhere in the world right now, so you don’t need to worry about that!”

“But-” Harry began to protest, but stopped. This was a muggle he was talking to, a muggle who lived in a different world.

“Oh, don’t look so troubled. Let’s have a look at that poem, instead.”

“What poem?”

“Harry!” teased Derek. “Wasn’t a poem a pre-condition to your calling me?”

“Oh.” Harry blushed. “Sorry.”

Derek’s gaze lingered on Harry’s blush, and he smiled slowly.

“Shall we do this another day, then?” Harry had already begun to pull his jacket off the back of his chair, but Derek held onto it.

“Harry, you’re so… so… I don’t know… Listen, I don’t care about the poem. Just have dinner with me and tell me more about your troubles and then maybe you can let me take you home and kiss you.”

Harry blushed again. Derek was so casual about this. Harry had never even had a romantic dinner with a bloke before. What would Derek expect at home?

Harry looked up and saw Derek beaming. “What?”

“You looked so troubled again. What? Is this your first time with a dude?”

“Of course not,” protested Harry, forcefully.

“How many?”

“Four,” croaked Harry quickly. “Four BLOKES I mean.”

“Oh-kay. Were they like me or were they different?” asked Derek.

Harry narrowed his eyes. If he said that the other blokes had been different, then Derek would think that Harry had come out with him because he had no better offers. If Harry said that Derek was similar to the previous blokes, then Derek might think that he was subbing for a previous lover.

“Some were similar, some were different,” said Harry, casually.

“Ok,” smiled Derek, and reached out to hold Harry’s hand over the table.

Harry recoiled a bit at the sudden gesture, but Derek’s hand was soft and warm, and felt- um- okay.

-x-

Outside Derek’s house, Harry flinched a bit when Derek leaned into him.

“What?” asked Derek.

“We’re out in public. Someone will see.”

“What will they say? It’s not like either of us is famous.”

“Right. I forgot,” said Harry, and steeled himself. He wanted to avoid flinching at the public kiss. Harry hadn’t done “public” well in a long time.

Ginny had told Harry that men were more aggressive sexually than women. Harry and Ginny had been equally aggressive with the kissing. But later, as he dated witches he knew less well, the onus had been on him to be more aggressive. He was the famous one. Harry knew how to do “aggressive” now.

When Derek’s lips touched his, Harry wrapped his arms tightly around Derek’s body and kissed him back. The kiss was as pleasant as any Harry had had before, barring Peruvia. Peruvia had used too much tongue too early in the kisses. But, in addition to the general pleasantness of the kiss, Harry also liked the softness of Derek’s beard on his face.

Harry licked Derek’s mouth tentatively, and Derek opened his mouth. With that, Harry forgot himself, and lost himself in the activity he liked doing best on his list. His tongue was inside Derek’s mouth, and moved around lazily. Derek’s hands were in Harry’s hair, and his breath was on Harry’s face. All was well.

Harry yanked out Derek’s shirt, and dragged his hands up Derek’s back. He liked the heat of Derek’s back on his hands, and the smoothness of his skin.

Derek pulled his face away. “I took you for a blushing type,” he said raggedly. “Let’s go back to my place.”

Harry’s stomach clenched. “Okay,” he managed to grind out.

-x-

In the bedroom, Derek frantically took off his shirt and pulled off his pants. Harry grabbed at the new expanse of skin now available to him, but Derek pulled away. “You too.”

Oh, Harry sighed, and took off his shirt.

He then grabbed Derek again, but Derek stopped him. “What’s that?” he asked, pointing at the large circular scar over Harry’s heart.

“Work injury,” said Harry quickly, and launched himself on Derek again.

Derek stopped him again. “What sort of an injury causes a scar like that?” he whispered, as he pushed Harry onto the bed. “Or for that matter, that lightening shaped scar on your forehead?” he asked as he hovered a few inches above Harry’s body, breathing onto Harry’s face.

Harry had never dated a muggle before, and had not invented credible excuses for his scars yet.

Derek looked down at Harry and smiled. “Oh, that troubled look again.” With that, he sank down on top of Harry and kissed him on his forehead, right on his scar. “You don’t have to tell me. I don’t want to trouble you any more than you already are.”

Harry grinned. Derek was conveniently reasonable.

Derek flashed a smile and nipped Harry’s mouth, right in the middle of his grin. “Now that’s what I like to see. A smiling hottie.”

This was getting too sappy, and it was no way to talk to a hero of the Wizarding World. Harry grabbed Derek’s arms, pushed him onto his back, and then rolled on top of him. Derek sighed, and let his head roll back.

Harry liked Derek’s neck to be exposed like this, and was gratified to hear Derek’s moan when he licked a spot just below his ear.

This, Harry liked, but he was getting tense at the thought of feigning excitement as he licked his way down Derek’s chest. That had always been excruciating for Harry. His girlfriends would behave as if this was a treat for Harry and Harry felt compelled to act as if it were. It would be worthwhile if he liked where the trail led, like on a treasure hunt, but, if anything, he liked the destination even less. He had to stop himself from gagging at the smells, and everything about the destination was a chore.

Harry closed his eyes as he sucked on Derek’s neck. He would worry about that problem when he came to it. For now, he was going to focus on the face, the soft brown eyes, the ticklish beard, and pretend like he’d forgotten the rest of the body existed.

-x-

Harry was walking on air. It was as if something had burst inside him.

Although Derek’s chest was as dull as anyone else’s, it did have the advantage of Derek not expecting much for it. There were no breasts to pretend to fawn over, to lick and tease, and suck on gently.

Harry had still been worried about the crotch, though, but when he got there, there was no smell at all. Derek’s crotch had been gorgeous. Clean, and pink, with gorgeous brown hair worn proudly. And, so non-smelly. Harry had wanted to rub his face in it. And Harry had rubbed his face in it. Then he had wanted to lick the side of Derek’s penis, and he had licked it, and it had been pleasant and tasteless. As in, there was no strong taste. Just the taste of skin and salt.

Harry had avoided the head of Derek’s penis, though. It seemed to be leaking precome and Harry gagged at the thought of taking that in his mouth.

But luckily, Harry had been relieved of that obligation. Derek had been so overcome with Harry’s enthusiasm for his crotch, that he had flipped Harry on to his back and taken Harry’s penis into his own mouth instead.

And that- Harry nearly choked on the memory- that had been the best thing to ever happen to Harry in his life. Unlike his previous girlfriends, who always asked whether they were doing okay, or scraped their teeth on his penis, or gagged when he thrust- Harry had felt so guilty that he stopped allowing his girlfriends to go down on him – Derek had been masterful. He had known just what to do, and did not gag, and seemed to love it. Derek had swallowed all of Harry’s come and claimed he wanted more. He had rubbished Harry every time Harry tried to stop Derek from swallowing. He liked the taste, he had said. He loved the smell. He loved putting Harry’s penis in his mouth. He refused to listen to Harry’s protests and gave Harry one more thing to put on his list- blow jobs.

But while walking on air, Harry did feel a bit stupid. Which idiot discovers that blow jobs can be fun at the age of twenty eight? I mean, really, thought Harry. Most of his friends had been enjoying blow jobs since the war ended. Some, even before the war. Draco, Harry was certain, was enjoying blow jobs in Year Four.

And Harry had only discovered he enjoyed blow jobs at the age of twenty eight. Seriously. What had he been wasting his time on?

“ _Why oh why_  
_Did it take so long_  
_to find a guy_  
_who… sigh… oh my_  
_I’m high as I lie_  
_bucked to the sky_  
_He sucks and I die_  
_Oh my, oh my._ ”

-x-


	7. Reunion # 3

CHAPTER 7: REUNION # 3

“Harry, you look happy,” said Hermione, as she came towards Harry with a smile. She held a smoking purple drink in her hand.

It was a sunny spring afternoon, and Ron had outdone himself with his cocktail inventions at what was being called ‘Hermione’s Big Party’. Guests had spread out all over Ron and Hermione’s apartment, front yard and backyard.

It was a big affair. Harry had not seen so many of the old crew together in one location for the longest time. Ginny sat on Dean’s lap by the barbeque. They both giggled at something Parvati said, while Neville looked on. Lee Jordan sat on the living room sofa, talking to Luna. Percy Weasley talked to Michael Corner in the corner. George and Justin Finch-Fletchley shoved each other playfully as Seamus laughed. Lavender and Charlie seemed to have found something in common, while Molly and Arthur were arguing with Ron behind the bar about who was really hosting this party.

“So,” continued Hermione, gently prodding Harry. “Tell me.”

“I met someone,” Harry blushed.

“Oh, Harry!” squealed Hermione, and gave Harry a hug.

Ron came over, face red from arguing with his parents. “Those Weasley parents! Who do they think they are, Hermione? How can they hijack this party?”

“Oh, Ron. You know they’re only trying to reduce our load,” exclaimed Hermione, giving Ron a significant look.

“Still. It’s not like you’re so far gone to-,” Ron stopped, blushing. “What the hell- it’s Harry. Harry, guess what?”

“You’re – erm- having a baby?”

Ron thumped Harry on his back while Hermione flushed with happiness. “Wow, mate, you really are special. How did you guess?”

Erm, thought Harry, it was so obvious. Ron and Hermione only had parties on big occasions and no other big enough event seemed to be on the horizon. And, Hermione was glowing today, and was given a special drink that Ron said no one else could have.

“Congrats, guys,” said Harry, pulling them both into a combined embrace. “How many months?”

“Three,” said Ron. “But don’t tell anyone. We want to make a big announcement later and catch everyone’s expression on this videe-something thing Hermione got.

“Of course, not,” said Harry.

“Harry’s got some good news, too,” said Hermione smiling.

Ron thumped Harry on the back again, and beamed at him, expectantly.

Harry blushed. “Err- I met someone.”

Ron thumped Harry yet again, and Harry spluttered. Some of his drink flew out of his glass. Ron pulled Harry into a one armed hug. “Anyone we know?”

“No. He’s a muggle, actually.”

Ron had been nodding enthusiastically in expectation, but stopped now, frowning. “Eh? Since when are you into blokes, mate?”

“Harry!” said Hermione, with concern in her voice. “A muggle and a man? Are you sure? That’s so different from your usual type.”

“Well. He asked me out and I said why not. And it was wonderful.” Harry blushed, and added, “He was wonderful.”

“Why didn’t you bring him?”

“He doesn’t know about the whole wizard thing yet.”

Hermione looked worried. “Harry! We’ve discussed this. You can’t pretend to be other people anymore. What’s the point of love if it’s not for the whole, complete you?”

Ron also gave Harry a significant look to emphasize Hermione’s point. “Right, mate!”

Harry wriggled. “But it’s so good. I’ve been out in the field this month and he’s been sending me a rhyme a day.”

“Rhyme?” Ron looked confused. “And how are you talking to him from the field when you don’t return our owls?”

“We’ve been texting. See.” Harry pulled out a phone from his pocket. “Derek made me get one of these muggle phones. Wizards can’t intercept it, so it’s safe to travel with, and it lets us communicate all day from anywhere. See.”

Harry turned on his phone and Ron’s eyes goggled at all the graphics. Hermione looked amused.

Harry smiled as he opened his last text from Derek:

“ _Pulled down your fly_  
_Stifled your cry_  
_And licked your come dry._ ”

Ron looked at Harry. “Mate! You look smitten.”

Harry coloured. “Oh no, it’s nothing. Just one of those rhyme thingees I was telling you about.”

“Ooh,” squealed Hermione, having just heard about the rhyming. “Iambic or pentameter?”

Harry and Ron both gaped at Hermione. “I don’t know what she’s on about half the time,” said Ron, sighing.

Hermione still looked excited. “Read it out, Harry.”

“No,” said Harry firmly.

“Oh Harry.” Hermione wriggled in disappointment. She gave Ron a reproachful look. “When was the last time YOU sent me a rhyme?”

Ron gawped. “Our relationship never included rhymes. I’m not supposed to rhyme. Harry! You are just – arrgh-“Ron shook his head. “I need a drink. A real one,” he added, looking pointedly at Hermione. “If the Weasley parents want to run around after everyone here and be hosts, they’re welcome to it!”

Hermione smiled fondly as he walked away. “Idiot.”

She then pulled Harry into another embrace. “Even if you don’t read me those rhymes, I’m still so happy for you.”

“Why are we happy for Harry?” drawled a voice, and Harry turned around to see Draco Malfoy. Draco was still in a semi-transparent linen shirt and low slung jeans. Harry felt irritated. Didn’t the git ever change his clothes?

“Oh Draco,” exclaimed Hermione, excitedly. “I’m so glad you could come.” She reached out and hugged him.

“I wouldn’t miss a party of yours for the world, Hermione,” said Draco seriously.

Harry did not need to stay for this mutual admiration club. He dusted himself off. “Well, I’d better be going then.”

“No, Harry,” protested Hermione. “I want to talk to you, actually.”

“In front of Malfoy?”

“This concerns him too.”

Harry looked at Draco and saw that he was suppressing a smile. He had Harry trapped.

“Harry,” began Hermione. “It’s about the giants in-“

“Oh, sod the giants,” said Harry. “I’m fed up with having to talk about them. I couldn’t care less.”

“We know,” agreed Draco.

Harry grimaced at that. “See. Malfoy knows.”

“I just think,” ventured Hermione, “it’ll be good for – erm- everyone if you helped Draco. He can’t seem to make much headway on his own.”

“Why not if he’s such a good and noble man?”

Draco looked a bit bewildered at that.

“But Harry,” reasoned Hermione, “the giants there really seem to respect you. You earned your stripes with them.”

“Why can’t Draco earn his own stripes?” protested Harry.

“I could. You know what, Hermione? Let it go,” said Draco. “I’ll spend a year working on the giants. I need to earn my information.”

Harry stood a little straighter. He felt vindicated. He didn’t do all this work for others to get a free pass.

“But Harry, it’ll just take you a day or two to introduce Draco and it’ll save him months!”

Harry could not understand why he was supposed to care. How was it going to help him if Draco had an easier time of it? And, Harry would probably lose out as he was sure Draco would paint him as a bad guy.

“Hermione,” pleaded Harry. “I have a lot going on.”

A smile flashed across Hermione’s face. “Of course. Sorry, I forgot and I’d already promised Draco that I’d try to help.” Draco looked a little shamefaced when she said that, but she turned to Draco now. “Draco, Harry has other stuff going on right now. He can’t take his weekends off now.”

“What stuff?” asked Draco. “He just seems to be mooning around scribbling on parchments.” With this, Draco bestowed on Harry a significant look AND a smirk.

“Yes, he’s really into rhymes right now,” began Hermione earnestly, covering for Harry, but Draco guffawed.

He thumped Harry on his back and the reverberations make Harry sputter. “Harry. Rhymes. Oh bloody hell!” Draco was gagging with laughter now. “I can’t disturb him from his rhymes. Cike,” he choked.

Harry gave Draco a dirty look. “Don’t know what you’re on about.”

“Oh, don’t you?”

“No, I don’t.”

“You don’t like eating cakes?” Draco sputtered with laughter again.

Harry sighed. “Oh, this joke has gotten so old. What’s wrong with you, Malfoy? You used to be so quick and inventive. But stale is all I see now.”

Harry looked up to see Draco staring at him, in a daze. Harry stared back defiantly.

“Oh boys,” said Hermione. “Grow up. You’re both adults now. And you do grown up things. Please act accordingly.”

Draco rearranged his face to look nonchalant, but Harry continued to glare at him. Hermione took charge. “Draco, Harry would love to introduce you to the giants-“

Harry began to protest but Hermione continued. “But Harry is very busy over the weekends, so we’ll have to make it an auror mission and make it during the week. I’ll write to Dawlish about it.”

She now turned to Harry. “Harry, Draco is very grateful for your help and will go out of his way to make it worth your while. And he promises to not let you down in any way or betray your trust with the giants. And…” she looked at them both now. “And who knows? Some real good can come of this, you know, for the world.”

Harry crossed his arms. “I don’t care about the world.”

Draco rolled his eyes now. “Don’t be childish,” he snapped. “You’re Harry Potter. Even if you’ve forgotten who you are, no one else has.” With that, Draco walked away, muttering under his breath.

Hermione looked at Harry apologetically. “Thanks for being so understanding. It’ll be good, I promise.”

What? Thought Harry. How was he committed to this thing with Draco? As far as he remembered, he had protested at every opportunity. Why did it seem like he was on board now?

Harry heard someone clear their throat beside him. Harry looked up to find that Hermione had gone. Probably chasing Draco, thought Harry angrily. Neville stood in her place instead.

“Malfoy’s wrong, you know,” said Neville quietly.

“Eh?” gawked Harry.

“You’re not just Harry Potter!”

Harry raised his head and looked at Neville questioningly.

“It took me a long time to come to that conclusion,” said Neville. It seemed as if Neville had bottled this up for some time and had only been waiting to say it to Harry. “I admired you from the day I met you. No. From before I met you. You were my hero. The infallible one. Everyone was a pale comparison to you. They only ever had a few of your qualities. Including me. I could never compare with you. No one could compare with you. No one measured up. The world and its people seemed tacky compared to you. Everything else was unsatisfactory. My skills weren’t good enough, Hannah wasn’t brave enough, being a herbology professor wasn’t noble enough.”

“And then I realized, I didn’t know you at all. Even though we were ‘friends’ so long, we never really talked, did we? It was hero worship all the way. I’m over that now.”

Neville extended his hand. “I’m Neville. It’s nice to meet you, Harry.”

Harry didn’t know what to say. Neville had hit the nail right on the head. This was the basis of most of his human relationships.

“And it’s a shame,” added Neville. “We had so much in common.”

Harry knew what Neville meant. They were both orphans and had lost their parents to Voldemort. Both of them had been raised by caregivers who were unforgiving. Neville’s grandma had petrified Neville into worrying he was a squib. She had been proud of him only when he became a warrior like his parents. Both Harry and Neville had felt like imposters in the magical community at Hogwarts. With so much in common, why hadn’t Harry talked to Neville?

Neville smiled as if he had read Harry’s thoughts. He chuckled. “The orphan boys of Hogwarts. You, me, Hagrid.”

They both looked towards the North, remembering Hagrid in his cottage, with his rock cakes and tea. And his big, warm hugs.

“I should go meet him sometime,” whispered Harry.

Neville nodded. Then he smiled. “Friends now, right Harry?”

Harry smiled and nodded.

-x-


	8. Sex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter upset me quite a bit, and I wrote it. So it might upset other people too. There are mentions of past abuse.

CHAPTER 8: SEX

“Harry, why are you so tense?” 

Harry was lying naked on his stomach on Derek’s bed. Derek was gently massaging Harry’s backside. Every time Derek got close to Harry’s anus, Harry would tense up. 

Harry looked back at Derek. “I’m not tense.”

Derek looked at Harry and sighed. “Oh-kay. If that’s what you say.” Derek stopped massaging Harry’s backside and lay down beside him. 

“What?” asked Harry. “Are we done already?”

Derek was at a loss for words. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. You haven’t even offered to go down on me, and you tense up every time I approach your backside.”

Harry blinked. It was true. He hadn’t offered to give Derek a blow job. He had to admit that the thought of a leaky cock was not enticing, but Harry had thought that because Derek was so enthusiastic about everything else, that he didn’t mind that Harry hadn’t sucked his cock yet. It was not as if Harry didn’t plan to do it- he just hadn’t done it YET. 

Harry looked at Derek and smiled. He sat up, and held onto Derek’s penis, which lay flaccid between his legs. “Well, I’m sorry about that.”

Derek shifted uncomfortably but allowed Harry to continue. 

Harry held his breath and went down to Derek’s crotch. Derek still smelt great down there, Harry had to admit. And the head of his penis was still dry. Harry could give it a lick. 

Harry bent lower and gave the head of Derek’s cock a small lick. Derek moaned and threw his head back. His penis started filling up. 

Harry bent lower again and closed his mouth around Derek’s penis, and sucked gently. Derek bucked up. His penis continued to enlarge. Nothing bad so far. 

Harry took more of the penis into his mouth and moved up and down Derek’s shaft, sucking now and then. Derek’s hand came down and rested on Harry’s head as he arched his back. 

Derek’s penis was now fully hard. Harry sucked again, and this time, something happened. Something seemed to emerge from the depths of Derek’s body and Harry gagged. 

Derek looked up at Harry in surprise. “This is your first time, isn’t it?”

Harry nodded, shamefacedly. 

“Why did you say you’d been with other blokes before?” 

Harry had no answer to this question. Maybe because he had always been thrown into the deep end and was expected to know how to do stuff? He had forgotten how to say he didn’t know or that he couldn’t do it. 

“And, here I thought you were a selfish bastard. When, all you are is a clueless bastard.”

Harry grinned. He had sensed something was wrong with his relationship with Derek, and it felt better to have it out in the open and be forgiven. 

Derek looked at Harry’s grin and shook his head, smiling. “What are we to do with you?”

“Well,” said Harry bravely. “I’ve only been with women before this.”

“What are you implying?”

“Well, you know what you were going for earlier?” said Harry. “Might as well get it over with.”

Derek winced. “I don’t know if you’re ready for it.”

“I’m ready,” said Harry. “Trust me.”

“I hated having sex with my girlfriends,” Harry added. “Found everything about it tiring and a chore. It’s not been the same with you so far and I want to see-“ Harry broke off. 

Derek rearranged his face into a look of determination. He spat into his hand. “Alright.”

Harry lay on his stomach again, and held his breath as Derek spread spit over his hole. 

“I’m going to put a finger in now, alright Harry?” whispered Derek. 

Harry nodded, but as Derek began to push his finger in, Harry bucked and sat up. 

“What happened?” asked Derek. 

“I don’t know.” Harry sounded bewildered. 

“Okay. Let me try again. Lie down.”

Harry lay back down. Derek slicked his finger again and approached Harry’s hole again. This time, he got half an inch in, when Harry bucked and sat up again. 

Derek looked closely into Harry’s face. He pushed his hair behind his ears and looked serious. “Harry, I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, but I need to ask. Were you abused as a child?”

“What – define abuse.”

Derek sighed. “You know, did someone do sexually inappropriate things to you as a child?”

“No.” Harry looked bewildered again. Why was Derek asking him these questions?

“Are you sure? Maybe you don’t remember. Children have a way of blocking these things out.”

Harry nodded. “Not as far as I remember.”

“So you had a happy childhood, then?”

Harry snickered. “Well. You know.”

“I don’t actually know, Harry. You’ve told me almost nothing about yourself.”

“Oh. Well. My parents died when I was a baby and I was raised by an aunt and uncle until I went to boarding school when I was eleven.”

“And this aunt and uncle were nice?” asked Derek. 

“No,” said Harry. “You could call them pretty mean. They made me sleep in a cupboard and yelled at me for everything.” 

Derek sighed. “And once you went to boarding school? Who looked after you then?”

Harry thought about it. He had already been battling Voldemort’s bits in his first year at Hogwarts. Harry supposed the teachers looked after him. McGonagall. Dumbledore. Harry winced. 

“So. No one, then?” said Derek. 

“Actually,” said Harry, “some people did look after me. But they did it so they could sacrifice me later. It’s complicated. Where I was then, I needed to die for something evil to be defeated.”

Derek looked at Harry, shocked. “Harry! What sort of a world is this? That’s not even possible!”

Harry opened his mouth and stopped. He wished he could tell Derek about the Wizarding World. 

Derek breathed in and began again. “Who looked after you after that?”

“I was an adult by the time that happened, and I’ve been looking after myself since then,” Harry said in a brave voice. The voice of a Hero. 

Derek inched towards Harry and held him in his embrace. He kissed Harry’s forehead gently. 

Harry felt forgiven. He felt that a tension that had been tightly coiled in his body had now unwound. He had never expressed these words out loud. It was a relief to do so. Harry raised his head and looked at Derek fondly. 

Derek dropped his eyes. “Harry, I’m so sorry, but I can’t do this. I can’t be your lover and your therapist.”

What? Derek was leaving him? That hadn’t been forgiveness but a goodbye?

Derek continued to talk. “I was sexually abused as a child and it took me years of therapy and daily crying to get over it. And I can’t go through that again.” Derek still looked at the pillow in his hand. 

Harry blinked. He could not believe what he was hearing. Derek was a ‘nice’ guy. Harry had been honest and Derek was leaving? 

“Harry, I can’t deal with your self-loathing. It just makes everything so difficult.”

Harry did not suffer from self-loathing. Over confidence, maybe. Since he was the Hero of the Wizarding World and all. 

“It’s obvious that you’ve had an abusive life, even if not sexually abusive, and you haven’t learnt to trust anyone as a result-”

Harry jumped in here. “I have friends.”

“And you talk to them about this stuff?”

“They know about it,” said Harry. 

“But do they know how it still affects you? How it makes you hate everything about yourself- including your body- and hate your lovers as well?”

“I don’t hate myself,” shouted Harry. He was outraged. 

“Don’t shout at me, Harry,” said Derek softly. 

“Then admit that I don’t hate myself,” hissed Harry. 

Derek got up. “Harry, you need to see a therapist. Grieve for your life. Cry every night for a year. At the end of it, you will learn to love yourself, love your body in all its glory, and you won’t be so repulsed by others’ bodies.”

Derek had started putting on his clothes now. 

“But if you leave, who will I talk to about this?” Harry panicked. He couldn’t discuss this with Ron and Hermione. 

Derek had put on his pants now. He rested his hand on Harry’s forehead. “I’ll still be your friend. You can still talk to me. But I just need to go away right now.”

Derek put on his shirt as Harry blinked. Again and again and again. Blink. Blink. Blink. Blink. One blink every two seconds. 

Derek was saying that Harry needed to learn to trust. How could Harry do that when his trust had been betrayed yet again? Harry had trusted Derek and told him the truth. Derek heard Harry’s truth and decided to leave. 

Harry’s breaths came in quick gasps, and he did something he hadn’t done in years. He sat on the bed, still naked, put his head in his hands and cried. 

Derek looked at him apologetically. “I’m sorry,” he said, and walked out of the door. 

-x-

There are times in one’s life when there is white noise all around. The white noise thickens and thickens and nothing gets through. 

Harry lived the next few days in a trance. He heard nothing, saw nothing but white fog, and felt nothing. All he knew was that his heart was breaking. 

If you smash a whole heart, the impact will just dent or fracture it. To truly break a heart, the heart has to be prepared to be broken. It has to be expanded to its maximum, full of love and pumping red with it. It has to be stretched to allow itself to feel more. Then, if you smash it then, it really hurts. 

One aspect of the hurt is that you’re blindsided. The other is that the heart was at its most sensitive when it was smashed. 

Harry lay on his cold bed and tried to see something through the white fog for the infiniteth time. Alone in the world since the age of one, no one even knew he was missing. 

-x-


	9. Giant Welfare

CHAPTER 9: GIANT WELFARE

“ _White_  
_Bright_  
_Light_  
_Slight_  
_White_  
_Light_  
_Fright_  
_Flight_  
_Sight_  
_Night_  
_Tight_  
_Bright white light_  
_Eyes shut tight_  
_Slight bright night_ ”

Harry kept his eyes shut and counted the number of words that he could rhyme with white. He had a splitting headache, and if he didn’t concentrate on his counting, he would start crying again. And that would make his headache worse.

He rolled towards the right on his bed and continued counting, but his headache seemed to be getting worse. Bang! Bang! Bang! It went now.

Harry held his head in his hands and tried to push the headache in. The banging sound receded.

Then he felt someone shaking and prying his hands away from his head. Through his eyelashes, Harry saw something golden. The stranglehold of whiteness seemed to be breaking.

Now, water droplets started trickling into his mouth. It was great to taste something other than the white fog. The golden light got brighter. Harry opened his eyelashes still further, and saw grey eyes looking at him with concern.

“Harry! Harry! Swallow. Swallow the water. I think you’re dehydrated.”

Harry was confused now. He had just wanted to lie on his bed, away from the world, until he felt a little better. Then that ghastly headache had come. And now, people were here again, trying to make him do things. He closed his eyes again in protest. The white fog was so much easier to deal with.

Someone slapped him. Harry opened his mouth in surprise and his mouth was suddenly full of water. He sat up, sputtering.

Malfoy sank down on Harry’s bed in relief. “Oh thank god, you’re okay.”

Harry stared at Malfoy. What was Malfoy doing in his bedroom? Harry’s headache still hurt, so he raised his hand to touch his head.

“You’re completely dehydrated. Why haven’t you been drinking any water?”

Harry didn’t reply. Malfoy looked concerned again. “Have you eaten anything?”

Harry didn’t reply.

“Merlin,” exclaimed Draco and handed Harry a chocolate frog from his pocket. “Eat this. I’ll get you to St. Mungo’s in the meantime.” Draco walked towards the floo in Harry’s fireplace.

Harry began to panic now. St. Mungo’s? Why?

“I don’t want to go to St. Mungo’s.”

Draco looked back at Harry in relief. “Oh thank Merlin. You’re talking too.”

Harry didn’t reply.

“Today is Monday and you were at work on Friday. So, at worst, you’ve only been in this state two days. You still need to go to St. Mungo’s though, to replenish your electrolytes.”

Harry didn’t want to go to St. Mungo’s. He didn’t want anyone else to know that he had reached such a silly state and all because some man didn’t want to love him back. It was so stupid. Harry had been so stupid. And there was no reason for anyone else to know about it.

“I have some electrolytes in the drawer there,” he said, pointing towards his desk.

Draco rushed to the desk, and began to rummage in its drawers.

“The other one. The right one on the desk.”

“Okay,” said Draco, and rummaged in the correct drawer now. He took out sachets of powder and added one packet to the glass of water he was holding. He handed it to Harry.

Harry gulped down the oral rehydration solution, and his headache began to recede.

“Thanks,” he said.

Malfoy sat down on Harry’s bed, hands crossed on his lap. “No problem.”

He hesitated, then he added. “Harry, is everything alright?”

“Never better.”

Draco raised one eyebrow.

“I was just feeling lazy this weekend.”

“Is that why your eyes are swollen?” asked Draco.

Instinctively, Harry’s hands reached for his eyes. His eyes were swollen. Had he cried that much? He didn’t remember crying THAT much. Hadn’t he stopped the crying with the counting?

Draco looked away. “Sorry.”

“I guess not drinking water makes one’s eyes swollen,” ventured Harry cautiously, hoping desperately that Draco would go along with it.

Draco looked at Harry. His expression was intense. Then, his body relaxed and he looked casual, nonchalant. “Hmm. I suppose so,” he said. “Haven’t tried such an experiment myself, though.”

Harry smiled feebly. Draco smiled back.

“I can’t leave you like this, though,” said Draco.

Harry shook his head. His headache still hadn’t gone completely. “No worries. I was just headed to work.”

“Potter,” said Draco, apologetically. “Your mission this week is to introduce me to the giants. That’s why I came here. I waited for you at the Ministry and you never showed up.”

Shit, thought Harry. He had forgotten.

“It’s okay,” said Draco. “I don’t really need help with the giants. No one will die if we don’t go.”

Harry nodded. That was true.

“So,” continued Draco. “You don’t really have any work to go to.”

Harry nodded. That was true, as well.

“Maybe I can drop you off at Hermione’s?” Draco seemed happy with this thought.

No, thought Harry. Too many questions. He wasn’t ready to answer any questions.

Draco looked at Harry anxiously. “Yeah? That works?”

Harry held his head in his hands. “Some water, please, Malfoy. I’ll come with you to the giants after that.”

Draco bit his lower lip. “Harry, I don’t think you can do the giants right now. You look pretty ill and probably need to go to the hospital.”

Harry gathered his strength and hauled himself off the bed. “I am going to drink some water, change my clothes and then I am going to Sweden. You can come with me if you want. If not, I’ll report you as a waster of Ministry resources.”

Draco looked uncertainly at Harry. “I don’t really care about my reputation. It’s been abysmal before, it’ll be abysmal again. I just have to do the right thing.”

“So, you’re going to report me, Malfoy?” Harry’s voice was steel now. “What are you going to report? That you saw me lying on a bed? And that I wanted to go on our mission, and that you refused?” Harry’s voice was steel but his eyes had melted. Why didn’t anyone ever just want to go along with things? Why did they always want to make such a fuss?

Draco nodded. “Okay. I’m already carrying all our field supplies, and I can rush you to St. Mungo’s if I see anything odd.”

Harry winced. He hated anyone to have anything on him. He had tried to be honest and express his real self and that clearly didn’t work. He was going to be a Man of Steel once again. A Hero. He would do what people expected him to do. His eyes dried up and his spine straightened. He was Harry Potter, Saviour of the Wizarding World, once again.

-x-

Draco Malfoy looked nervous. He had been jittery in Stockholm after they flooed in. He had been jittery in Kvikkjokk once they flooed there. And he certainly looked anxious now that they were walking up to the Giant Reserve.

“What? Scared of giants, Malfoy?”

Draco was walking ahead of Harry on the trail through the mountains. He looked back, confused.

“Haven’t seen you look this nervous since Hogwarts. And you were a scared little bugger, then.”

Draco opened his mouth to say something, but stopped. He nodded and then faced forward once again. Harry saw him pull nervously at his hair, and laughed inside. He knew it wasn’t a real laugh, though, because it didn’t cheer him at all.

The mountains were beautiful. Harry remembered that he would end his days in Sweden lying on his back, and looking up at the green canopy of the trees in the forest. In the midst of hopeless giant politics, this one act during the day reminded him of the beauty of the world. Harry looked up at the canopy now. It looked thinner, somehow.

Draco had stopped at a stream, and was putting white electrolyte powder into a bottle of water. Once he had finished with that, he threw it in Harry’s direction.

Harry laughed. Malfoy had such pathetic aim. The bottle had been thrown at least four feet off, and if it hadn’t been for Harry’s seeker reflexes, he would never have caught it.

He opened the bottle and took a swig of water. “That was pathetic, Malfoy! How did you even make it to the Slytherin team with such poor aim?”

Draco, funnily though, did not seem offended at all. He smiled with satisfaction.

“What’s so funny?” asked Harry.

Draco shook his head. He pointed towards a fork on the road on the other side of the river. “Last time I came, I took the western path, but it wasn’t that safe, to be honest. Which way do you usually take?”

Harry took another swig of water and crouched down on the floor, trying to remember. “I think I took the western path as well.”

“So should we go left or right?” asked Draco.

“I came pretty long ago, and I don’t remember anything particular on the path back then. What’s on the left?”

“Some…” Draco hesitated. “There are some angry wizards along the way towards the left.”

Harry nodded. “Hmm. Shall we go on the other path, then?”

“What’s on the right?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think I ever took that path.”

“But you were here for a year!”

“Yeah, but I was with the giants throughout. I only ventured out to meet the angry wizards now and then, but I used the paths everyone else used.”

Draco nodded. “We’ll go towards the left, then.”

Harry finished his bottle and nodded. Draco immediately grabbed the bottle from Harry and began to fiddle with it again. He used Aguamenti for the water, but added the white powder carefully into the bottle.

“Here,” he said, handing it to Harry after he was done, but Harry didn’t take it.

“Malfoy,” Harry purred, “I’m not an invalid. I don’t need your ministrations.”

Draco winced. “Right,” he said, pursing his lips, “I forgot again. My bad.” He kept the bottle with him.

-x-


	10. Angry Wizards

CHAPTER 10: ANGRY WIZARDS

“Oh, it’s you again?” snarled a voice. 

Draco and Harry had been climbing uphill for hours and it was nearly nightfall. They didn’t think it would be safe to arrive at the Giant Reserve at this time and had contemplated finding a camping spot. But a large man in dirty robes blocked their path now. He was glaring at Draco. 

Harry looked at Draco, who appeared to have held his breath. Draco’s face looked bleached and he was trying to empty it of all expressions. 

“Didn’t we tell you not to come here again?” snarled the old wizard again. 

Draco nodded. “Yes. You did.”

“And you decided we country bumpkins were not worth listening to?”

“Well-“ began Draco, but whatever he had to say was drowned under the large man’s rants. “Filthy, stuck up Londoners!”

Harry was not really a Londoner. Anyway, why should it be a crime to be from London?

“Oi,” shouted Harry, but the man couldn’t or chose not to hear him. 

“Oi,” shouted Harry again, this time louder. “Show some basic human courtesy and make eye contact with the people you’re talking to.”

The old wizard looked shocked. “A tadpole like you dares to shout at me. The city really breeds entitlement.” 

“He should feel entitled,” shouted Draco. “He saved the wizarding world from Voldemort and that means that he also saved you.”

Yeesh, thought Harry in despair. Why did people always have to bring that up? That’s why he had stopped traveling with partners. 

But the old wizard was staring at Harry now. He had a glint of interest in his eyes. “Harry Potter, is it?” The old wizard cackled now. “Well well well. Harry Potter! Friend of giants and wizards! Rumours around these parts say that you got tired of us.”

“Er-“ Harry began half-heartedly. 

The old man examined his hands. “I guess you got our missive. You’re back now to save us from the giants.”

Harry sighed. He never got any missives from Sweden. Did they send it in a bottle and cast it into the sea or something? Last time he was here, they sometimes tried to communicate by whispering to butterflies. But butterfly communication had broken down in recent years. Swarms often missed their neighbouring swarms because their season for becoming butterflies had changed with the changing climate patterns. 

“No, I’m not. I’m just here to introduce this man, Malfoy, to the giants.”

“Are you on the giants’ side now? You’ll have them run free and destroy our future?”

“No, I’m not on their side either. I haven’t seen them in years. They just know me and Malfoy, here, wanted an introduction.”

“So the great Harry Potter came all the way down for that but not when the giants were destroying Kvikkjokk?”

“Erm- yes,” hesitated Harry. 

The old wizard looked appalled. 

Harry quickly began to answer. “It’s not that I didn’t want to help, but I never got your missive and the office was sending me to other places- Peru, Antarctica, Russia…”

“Well,” he said, clamping his hand around Harry’s wrist. “Now that you’re here, we ain’t letting you go.”

Harry’s eyebrows raised in alarm as the old wizard began pulling him along off the path. Did the old man really think he could trap Harry with his hands? Come on, thought Harry. A simple Bodybind would solve the problem, and he had Malfoy as back up. 

“No,” said the old wizard. “No need to start with your fancy spells. We’re not trapping you. You’re just going to hear us out. You were the last of the aurors who actually listened to what we had to say. Come along with me, and I’ll let the others know that they should set us up at the lodge.”

The old wizard waved his hand and a reindeer jumped onto the path, looking startled. The old wizard held the reindeer’s neck gently and began to whisper in the reindeer’s ears. Harry thought that they must have realized that their butterfly communication had broken down and had adapted to using reindeer. Why they couldn’t use patronuses, Harry didn’t know. 

Harry took this opportunity to make something very clear to Draco Malfoy. 

“Draco,” Harry hissed quietly, so the old wizard couldn’t hear. “Will you stop crushing on the fact that I’m Harry Potter? It will only raise expectations and get us in trouble.” 

Draco looked confused. “But you are Harry Potter.”

“Well, shut up about it anyway.”

“But it helped. See. I usually have to sneak around and can only get through when no one crosses my path. But with you, someone crossed our path and we still got through.”

“That’s not because he’s Harry Potter, lad,” said the old wizard, who had finished sending his message via the reindeer. “That’s because we know he listens, and he listens fair.”

-x-

Harry and Draco found themselves in a dark room in the wooden lodge once they reached the village. The only source of light was a crack under the locked door. In the dim light, they would see that grime covered all the wooden surfaces. 

There was hollering and clamouring at the door. A crowd seemed to have gathered outside. 

“We have to send a message to London,” a rough voice shouted outside. 

“Shut it, Aravid,” someone growled.

“But he left us to the giants!”

“He’s back now.”

“They say he’s come with a famous Death Eater,” shouted a high-pitched voice. 

“I’d like to talk to the Death Eater,” said the first voice. “Better odds on discussing Wizarding rights.”

“Shut it, Aravid.”

“But Lucie, that Macnair was helpful. He got rid of the giants for years the last time he came.”

“And only a quarter came back.”

The angry voices shouted outside, but there was a dark stillness inside the room. Draco crept closer to Harry. “Sorry.”

Harry shrugged. This sort of thing happened to him once a month. 

Draco crept closer. In the dim light, his skin looked translucent. “Harry,” he choked in a whisper. “Harry, I’m so sorry.” He crept still closer. His adam’s apple was bobbing frantically. “For everything.”

Harry saw that Draco’s blond eyelashes were fluttering madly. He seemed to be accessing an anguish that was disproportional to their circumstances. 

Harry stepped back. “Malfoy. Relax. They’re going to work it out. We’ll be fine.”

“What if they don’t?” Draco said urgently. 

“Easy magic to get us out of here,” said Harry with a casual wave of this hand. 

Draco dropped his head in his hands. “The wizarding world will never forgive me for this. I got you all the way here when you’re so…” he stopped his train of thought. “…when you’re so dehydrated.” Draco squinted up to inspect Harry. 

Harry turned away. Fuck Draco. Pointing out Harry’s weaknesses when Harry was the only one who could get them out of there. Draco was shameless. 

Draco began rummaging around frantically in the dark. “Where is it? I can’t find it.” He knocked over a chair. “Harry, they kept our backpacks.” He knocked over a table now. A bag seemed to have split, spilling its contents on the floor. “They kept our backpacks, Harry. I don’t have your water, Harry!” Draco tried to move around some more but ultimately sank down on the floor and held his head in his hands. 

Harry turned towards Draco. You could barely see Draco’s hair glisten in the dark. “How did you ever survive being a Death Eater? You’re so…” Harry wanted to say ‘weak’ but felt that was too mean.

Draco raised his head. “I’m all heart,” he chuckled. “Yeah, I didn’t do very well with the Death Eaters ‘cos I’m all heart.”

Harry sneered with incredulousness. “You’re all heart?”

“Yeah, haven’t you noticed? I make friends and never let my friends go.”

“Haven’t noticed, actually,” said Harry boldly. “I recall you leaving Crabbe in the Room of Requirement.”

Draco looked at Harry in disbelief and then crumpled where he sat. Harry felt awful immediately. He hadn’t meant to say that. He knew Draco had tried to protect both Crabbe and Goyle in that room on that awful day. 

“I’m sorry,” Harry said quietly, and looked at Draco. Draco didn’t seem to have heard. He was fingering the cuff of his linen shirt. 

“I’m sorry,” Harry repeated, but Draco didn’t look up. 

Great, thought Harry. Now they were both feeling miserable because of him. There had been no reason for Harry to say what he knew was untrue and what he knew would hurt the other person. Why had he done it? Was unnecessarily cutting people down part of the process of becoming Snape?

Draco had spent the years after losing Crabbe trying to make amends. And here Harry was, hitting below the belt. Harry must be really unhappy to do that. Well, Harry thought, he knew he was unhappy, but he had never impacted anyone other than himself with his unhappiness before this. This was not right. He couldn’t actively hurt people. That would make him objectively ‘bad’ in his own eyes. He could not continue this. He could still avoid becoming a Dementor. 

-x-


	11. Reunion # 4

CHAPTER 11: REUNION #4

Harry decided he would be really nice to Draco from now on. Not everyone was as tough as Harry. If he treated Draco like a fragile eggshell, Draco may not get hurt.

Draco, on the other hand, woke up raging. “Damn those wizards and damn their babies. I am glad the giants are eating them.”

It was morning and they had fallen asleep in the wooden shed. The clamouring outside had died down but no one had come to unlock them or give them better shelter.

Harry held his head. His headache was back and Draco’s shouting wasn’t helping.

Draco caught this and his eyes widened. He looked around frantically. “Damn those wizards! Harry Potter is going to die without water and it will all be my fault.”

He got up urgently and started looking around for an escape route. The door was still locked shut, but Draco could feel that the air wasn’t as stuffy as the night before. There had to be a crack somewhere, from which air was coming in.

Harry stumbled as he stood up. This looked like a classic “allow prisoners to escape” set up. Something had definitely been left open.

Before Harry had dusted the grime off his pants, Draco whooped. “The window is open,” he exalted. “We can escape.”

Harry nodded numbly. That window had been locked the night before. Someone definitely wanted them to escape.

Draco came towards Harry and grabbed him. “Here, I’ll help you out. Use me to climb out of the window and I’ll follow.”

Harry looked at Draco. He could so easily have managed this himself but Draco looked so proud. Harry sighed. He had decided to treat Draco with kid gloves. He let Draco pull him towards the window and allowed Draco to bolster him out of the window.

Outside was a crisp cool day but the sunshine was blinding. Harry immediately saw their backpacks hidden near a stack of logged wood. He would not have minded drinking the water in the backpack but he decided he would let Draco find these too.

-x-

They were on their way towards the Giant Reserve once again. Harry had insisted he was strong enough to continue with the journey. Draco was high on his success at engineering their escape and on finding their backpacks and Harry’s water. Draco was almost strutting as he felt equal to any challenge that lay ahead of them.

Harry rhymed in his head:  
‘ _The hilarity in this parody_  
_Draco, he scans frantically_  
_For giants who are no fan of me_  
_I follow lethargically_  
_Trying to think o’niceties_  
_To rest Draco’s anxieties_  
_But the weight of gravity_  
_I may not reach my sanity_ ’

Draco looked back at Harry. “What are you smiling about?”

“What?”

“Why the silly grin on your face?” asked Draco.

Harry sighed. Draco was exhausting. He was so up and irritating right now. Harry’s instinct told him to shut Draco up but he had made the decision to be nice.

“Earlier, when I was on an auror mission and I had to spend time alone, I used to count stuff.”

“Like what?”

“Oh, you know, I used the count the trees, count the butterflies, count the number of f-bombs dropped by an informant.”

“What did you do with all the numbers?”

“Eh?” Harry was confused.

“You did all this counting. What did you do with all the numbers?”

“Oh. Sometimes it was useful in finding my way out of traps like this one. But mostly, I just forgot the numbers.”

Draco nodded. “I used to rhyme in my head. I made up rhymes in my head when Voldemort made me torture people.”

Harry’s eyes widened. Was Draco setting up a joke?

“No, no. I’m not trying to make fun of you. Please. I really used to do it. I was always fantastic at rhyming in school. Remember ‘Weasley is our king’?”

Harry blushed. Draco was a vastly superior rhymer to Harry. But, hey, this was not a competition. Harry mostly rhymed to kill time.

“After the war, when people were mean to me, or tried to shut me out, I would keep my public face on but rhyme in my head.”

“What sorts of rhymes?”

Draco’s eyebrows wagged. “You know me- mean and insulting ones.  
‘ _Precious Percy Weasley_  
_Always very sleazy_  
_Gets his palms greasy_  
_At the holy Ministry.’_ ”

Before Harry could respond to this, Draco was in his face again. “Get it? He gets his ‘palms greasy’ at the ‘hole’-y ministry?”

Harry’s expression was blank.

“Oh. Do I have to spell it out for you? He licks ass to get ahead at the Ministry.”

“Ugh,” said Harry. “That’s awful.”

Draco sighed. “I know.” He sighed again. “Luna put me right on that front.”

“Luna?”

“Yes.  
‘ _Loony loony Luna_  
_Earrings made of tuna_  
_With a big lacuna_  
_In between her ulna.’_ ”

“That sounds obscene,” said Harry.

“Ulna is a bone in the ear, Potter. I meant that she had nothing between her ears.”

But that wasn’t even true, thought Harry. Luna was very smart. Draco’s rhymes were weird and untrue. Percy had also changed his personality since the war, even if he was still irritatingly officious.

Draco seemed to pick up on what Harry was thinking. “I know,” he said. “I was reciting these to Luna one day, to make her laugh, you know. But she didn’t laugh and asked what I was getting from all this negativity. She said it probably increased the negativity inside me and made me more miserable. She’s the one who got me focusing on the positive.”

Harry nodded. Yes, negativity was not productive. “But how do you know Luna?”

“Er-we went to school together?”

Harry sputtered. Of course he knew Draco and Luna went to school together, but they were never chummy enough for Draco to be reciting poetry to her.

Draco raised one eyebrow. “Getting to the point you so eloquently raised right now, Luna gave me my first job. No one would see me or hire me after the war. She heard I was looking and came and offered me the job of finding the Rumple-skinned snorcack.”

“Crumple-horned snorcack,” Harry corrected.

“Whatever- totally imaginary. I didn’t even smell a snorcack in my year in Romania, but I did meet vampires there. Thanks to Luna, I could empathize with them instead of writing a nasty rhyme.” Draco shrugged. “I wrote a story on their plight for the Quibbler. Got me started in my career.”

“Wow,” said Harry. He had not known any of this. He had just assumed that one day Draco had decided to write a book, and then just did it. Because he knew he would be loved no matter what. Harry hadn’t realized that Draco had also spent some time in the wilderness and help from strangers and friends had given his life direction.

“I know,” said Draco.  
“ _’Lovely Luna Lovegood_  
_She really really smell good_  
_And when folks are rude, dude!_  
_They rue it and wish they pooed.’_ ”

Harry burst out laughing. This was so silly. And light.

Draco smiled ruefully. “I know. Not as good anymore.”

Harry chuckled. “Better than mine at any rate.”

Draco suppressed his own peal of laughter now. “I like to ride a bike and eat a cike? Harry!” Draco had to laugh now. “Harry, anyone could beat that one.”

“Well, I might have improved since then.”

“Let’s hear something.”

Harry shook his head. “No.”

“Why? I recited mine.”

“But yours are joke ones,” protested Harry.

“And yours are- what- heartfelt?”

Harry paused and made a face. “I don’t know, actually. I’m not trying to be a poet or anything but I like the puzzle of rhyming words. It’s like counting and it’s something I can do when I’m alone on auror missions.”

Draco nodded. “Any big plans for them? Hopefully, something better than just forgetting them?”

“Mine are still very bad. I wouldn’t dream of showing them to anyone.”

“Ah. So you hope to get better?” Draco paused and nudged Harry. “You think you might want to be a poet, eh?” Then he gasped at a thought. “Or, a songwriter? Oh Harry, that would be so much better.”

“Better than what?”

“Nothing,” said Draco quickly. “I meant that I could see you as a singer-songwriter.”

Harry laughed. “I can’t sing.”

Draco raised one eyebrow. “You couldn’t rhyme either.”

“I still can’t rhyme.”

“Not what I think,” said Draco with a smile. His eyes flashed when he smiled. Summer had come.

-x-


	12. The Things We Live For

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, it took so long, but was struggling with getting back to the story for many reasons. Also, trying to sort out grammar issues in earlier chapters. 
> 
> But I do have to say that just writing this fic has changed my life in many ways, so thanks to everyone who has read and appreciated this story. <3 Nearly at the end now. 2 more chapters I think.

CHAPTER 12: THE THINGS WE LIVE FOR

Harry felt lighter as they climbed higher into the mountains.

Draco looked back at him and smiled. “You look better.”

“Better than what, prat?”

“Ooh. So combative. I’m intimidated.”

Harry rolled his eyes and climbed on. He _was_ feeling better. Something seemed to have broken. Maybe it was being back in the forest again, with its dense green canopy and fresh air. He was breathing more deeply. His lungs wanted to take in more of the air.

Harry looked ahead and watched Draco stumbling over the rocks. Prat, he thought, and smiled.

Draco looked back just then and stumbled again. Harry chuckled.

“Glad I made you smile. You’ve been behaving like someone kissed by a dementor”.

Harry stopped smiling and sighed. Why did Draco have to bring up dementors just when Harry had forgotten that he was becoming a dementor to those around him? Although, Draco was so luminous now, it would not hurt him to have a little bit sucked out.

Hmm, thought Harry. Just a little bit to add a little bit of happiness to Harry. Harry could just press his lips on Draco’s for a second and pull out a tiny bit.

The image flashed before Harry’s eyes and he stopped in his tracks. Had he just imagined himself kissing Draco? Best not dwell there. Dangerous stuff!

He continued walking, but try as he might, images of himself pressing his lips against Draco and pulling a little happiness out continued to flash in his head. Every time Draco looked back and smiled at Harry, the duration of the lips being pressed against each other got a bit longer.

 Harry shook his head. This was not on. He had to distract himself.

“Malfoy, what are we going to do once we reach the giants? What’s your plan exactly?”

Draco looked confused. “You’re going to introduce me and tell them I’m a swell guy. What else?”

“And what are you going to tell them?”

“I’m just interviewing them, Harry.”

“Do I have to stay while you interview them?”

A flicker of disappointment passed through Draco’s face. “You should definitely go home. You need rest.” Draco turned and started walking forward again.

That was better, thought Harry. He needed to get away from Draco and focus his new found excitement about living on someone available.

-x-

The air became even lighter as they saw the giant reserve ahead of them. Draco’s face was tense but he smiled weakly as he looked back at Harry. “We’re here.”

Harry smiled. He would be out of Draco’s zone of influence in a few hours and he would be relieved.

“Ready?” he called out.

Draco nodded.

Harry nodded and they walked into the giant reserve together.

There was no sound inside the reserve.

“They were here two months ago,” whispered Draco.

“Wait,” whispered Harry. “They can smell us. They’re giants, you know – fee fie fo fum, and all.”

Draco looked confused. He must not have heard muggle fairy tales.

“Never mind,” said Harry. “Just wait.”

Sure enough, there was a rumbling sound, and a few minutes later, three sleepy looking giants stood before them. Harry knew them. The giantess was Xerome and had lost three babies to disease. One of the giants was her brother Davos and the other was her partner Lexy. They had sort of been in the camp that was friendlier to Harry’s cause. Even though Xerome had been convinced to try and eat a human baby to prevent any future deaths of her babies, Harry had managed to talk Lexy out of it. Lexy had convinced Xerome only after he had said he would leave her if she ate a human baby-not that Harry approved of Lexy’s methods. Davos had stayed in the baby-eating camp.

Draco stepped forward with his hand stretched out. “Hello- Hi- I am Draco Malfoy and I’m here again.”

The giants looked incredulously at Draco. Davos stepped forward and scooped Draco into his fist in one smooth motion.

“Wait,” shouted Harry. “Wait. He’s with me.”

Davos peered down at Harry as the other two stared at him from afar.

“Harry?” called out Lexy in surprise.

‘Harry,” grimaced Davos and squeezed Draco tighter. Draco looked frightened and his eyes began to bug out of his head.

“Lexy, help!” shouted Harry. Harry could not use magic here as it would show a lack of trust and escalate the situation. The way to get along with the giants was to show trust.

Lexy walked towards Harry but Xerome literally ran in the other direction. Harry swallowed. This was not looking good. He had no idea what had happened to Lexy, Xerome, Davos and the rest since he had left. Were they all hostile now?

Lexy lifted Harry up in his palm. “Harry.”

Right, so, not completely hostile, then. “Lexy, you’ve got to tell Davos to release Draco. I don’t think he can survive being crushed anymore.”

Lexy shook his head. “He bad.”

“No. He not bad. He okay,” said Harry. “He good.”

Harry stole a glance at Draco. He was breathing with difficulty now. When Harry said he was good, he looked at Harry and gagged dramatically.

“He best. He best,” screamed Harry. He really wished he did not have to take out his wand. If Draco could do drama, he was not in a very bad state yet and Harry had a few more minutes to diffuse the situation.

“He best?” croaked Lexy.

Harry nodded.

Lexy touched Davos with his other hand. Davos grimaced but eased his grip on Draco, and colour came back into Draco’s face. But Davos did not release Draco and continued to hold him in his grip.

“He bad,” said Davos firmly. “Die later.”

Harry looked pleadingly at Lexy but Lexy was distracted. Lexy was looking back, inside the reserve, waiting for something.

Harry was getting worried. This reprieve seemed temporary. A quick glance at Draco showed that he was just concentrating on getting his breath back.

In a minute, Xerome came running back, holding a small infant in her arms. Lexy smiled at Harry delightedly. “Bebe”, he said.

“Yours?” asked Harry, but his spirits were sinking. What did this mean? Had they eaten a wizard baby? Should he congratulate them or arrest them?

Xerome reached Harry now and smiled. “Bebe. Harry.”

Harry smiled wanly.

Lexy and Xerome looked confused and hurt, then Lexy jabbed Harry in the chest. “Bebe name Harry.”

Harry understood now. For some mysterious giant reason, they had named their child after him. This suggested that they could not have done something totally opposite to what he had been about. Harry smiled.

Seeing him smile, Xerome relaxed and Lexy smiled. “Congrats,” said Harry. “That’s great.”

Lexy nodded and placed Harry on his shoulder. He began to walk towards the interior of the reserve, with Xerome walking beside him with the infant in her arms. Harry looked back and saw Davos reluctantly begin to follow. Harry could barely make out Draco in his fist, and did not know how Draco was doing.

The giants reached a secluded corner and Lexy laid Harry on the floor, but Draco stayed in a standing Davos’ fist. Harry looked around and saw that it was a nice shady spot, with bushes to lie under but also open spaces for the infant to roll about in. Lexy took out a tub of water and placed it in front of Harry. “Water,” he said.

“Thanks,” said Harry.

“Drink.”

Harry pointed at Draco in Davos’ fist. Harry’s bottle was still in Draco’s backpack.

Davos reluctantly released Draco on the floor. Draco tottered out and fell on the floor, but recovered immediately and extracted the bottle from his backpack and handed it to Harry.

As Harry took the bottle, their eyes met. Draco was flushed pink from his recent ordeal but his eyes were smiling. “Here you go, you hero,” he smirked.

Harry flushed with embarrassment and grabbed the bottle. He filled it up with the water from the tub and drank it. It was important to show trust.

Everybody relaxed after that. Xerome stretched out on the floor and lay the infant next to Harry. It was Harry’s size already. It blinked at Harry and Harry grinned.

Oh, thought Harry, it was just a little baby.

Harry reached out and touched the infant’s shoulder and squeezed it. Even Davos’ eyes looked soft.

“First bebe three years,” said Lexy.

Harry nodded. He wanted to ask many follow up questions but had learnt that information would come in its own time.

“No eat wizard,” added Lexy by way of explanation.

Harry nodded eagerly. He wanted to understand the scene as it stood now. When he had lived with the giants, not many babies survived. Those that did were attributed to consumption of human babies. If that had not happened in the case of Xerome’s infant, the scene must have changed a lot. Their beliefs might be very different now.

“Three bebes two years.”

Harry nodded again. There were three other babies that had survived up to the age of two.

“No eat wizard. All try.”

It appeared to be a pattern. More babies were surviving and they had all decided not to eat human babies.

“Wizard angry still.” Lexy sighed and looked hopefully at Harry.

What did he want Harry to do? Talk to the wizards?

Harry looked up and saw hopeful expressions on the faces of all three giants. Bebe Harry babbled. Harry squeezed his shoulder again and nodded. Lexy smiled again and nodded.

“Hungry, Harry?”

Harry nodded.

Lexy looked at Davos who got up to arrange some food.

Harry squeezed the infant’s shoulder again to establish trust. Bebe Harry thought it was now time for play and pushed Harry. The strength behind his push was astonishing, and Harry found himself falling onto Draco. Draco immediately looked awake and crawled towards the infant and held his other shoulder.

The infant raised his hand and put his finger in Draco’s hair. He messed up the hair with one finger and giggled. Xerome also giggled then. Harry had to smile. Draco had never looked more dishevelled but was gamely playing with the baby now. Draco put his hand in the baby’s hair and messed it up. The infant touched his own hair to fix it up but messed it up even more. Draco looked at Harry when this happened, as if remembering something, and laughed.

Soon enough, Davos returned with some bits of charred meat. He was accompanied by three other giants that Harry recognized. Olen and Finwin had been firmly in the baby eating camp, while Lilin was from Lexy’s camp.

They all shook Harry’s hand and sat on the floor in a circle, waiting to be served the charred meat.

Olen spoke first. “Good you back.”

Harry was surprised but nodded.

“No eat wizard bebe.”

Harry nodded.

“Try. Bebe survive. “

Harry nodded. That meant that they had given not eating wizard babies a try and their own babies seemed to have survived.

“No eat wizard bebe.”

Harry nodded. Important to emphasize that they were not eating wizard babies anymore.

“Wizard angry still.”

Harry nodded. “I told Lexy I would talk to them.”

“Wizard angry”, said Finwin now. He had not spoken yet. “Kill twenty-five giant. We angry but no eat wizard.”

This was getting more complicated.

“Luta want to kill wizard. We say bebe survive. Let children grow. We angry still.”

Harry understood now. Clearly, the wizards had attacked and killed twenty-five giants but the giants did not want war as they wanted to give their surviving babies a chance. They were still angry with the wizards but most did not want to fight. The more aggressive ones like Luta- and Harry remembered Luta- had to be reigned in by the other giants.

Lilin spoke now. “You say. We try.”

-x-

It was later in the evening and Luta has just left. Luta was still angry with the wizards but happy that Harry came back. He hoped Harry returning would lead to something positive for the giants.

Harry and Malfoy had now been given stacks of hay to sleep on. It was too hot to sleep inside a cave in this weather.

“Sorry, Malfoy,” said Harry. “I never introduced you to the giants.”

Malfoy snorted and shook his head. “Go to sleep Harry.”

Harry closed his eyes. Merlin, he was tired. Negotiations and arrangements always exhausted him.

Malfoy started laughing, suddenly.

“What?” groaned Harry.

“Merlin’s beard, Harry,” said Draco, turning on his haystack to look at Harry. “Can you be any more of a hero?”

Harry groaned inwardly. He sensed a river of praise disguised as a diatribe coming on.

“When we met in that pokey coffee shop, you made yourself sound so cynical. _Giants are beyond help. They have to stay in the reserve because they eat human babies, etcetra etcetra._ But, Merlin, what a fraud you turned out to be. You got them to stop eating babies and now they want to make friends with the wizards. And they want you to go out and talk to the wizards for them.”

Draco paused to take a breath.

“Merlin, the giants are naming their _bebes_ after you!”

Harry had to suppress a smile at that. He did find it funny that they were naming their babies after him. He hadn’t really done anything. It was his job to try and get them to stop eating babies.

“I mean, I try and try and try to be a good man and do the right thing, and you- you think you’re all jaded and evil and still end up saving the world. I fucking hate you, man!”

Harry turned on his haystack to look at Malfoy now. “You don’t hate me. You LOVE me.”

Malfoy sighed and flopped back onto his back. “There should be some equality on this Earth. No one should be allowed to stand so many heads and shoulders above the others.”

Harry also flopped back onto his back on his haystack. “Okay, Malfoy. Shut up,” said Harry. “I need to sleep and talk to those angry wizards tomorrow. And eat that charred meat.”

Malfoy giggled. “That was pretty bad.”

“All I ate for one year,” giggled Harry. “Made me strong.”

“And no one is stronger than you.”

“Malfoy,” growled Harry. “Can you tone down the crushing? It’s not normal.”

“One should always compliment when one can. Nothing wrong with a compliment. And I’m not giving compliments. I am simply being factual.”

“Malfoy, we’re exhausted and probably high from near-death experiences and euphoric from weird happy endings. Not the time to throw random compliments into the mix.”

“Merlin, Harry, people compliment you all the time. They are always saying how strong you are or how brave and smart you are. You don’t even seem to notice. Why are my compliments bothering you so much?”

“Now is not the time, idiot. Compliment me in the morning.”

“That sounds dumb as fuck. We should reign in our admiration and let it out in drops when and where the saviour demands? You can’t control people like that.”

“That’s it,” said Harry, jumped off his haystack and stomped towards Draco’s haystack. “I warned you.”

Draco raised his arm to protect himself. “You can’t attack me for complimenting you, idiot, even if you are Harry Potter or whatever.”

Harry looked down at Draco, his eyes glowing bright. “Lower your arm.”

“No,” choked Draco. “I don’t have to listen to you.”

“Draco Malfoy, lower your arm.”

Draco lowered his arm. Harry nodded in acknowledgement and stalked back to his bed. His breathing was slower now. He had managed to cool himself off.

Draco sat up. “My, you really get a kick from getting people to do what you want.”

Just the opposite, thought Harry in his head. “Please shut up Malfoy. I really want to sleep now.” With that, he lay on his bed and closed his eyes.

That was scary. He had almost attacked Draco with a kiss. He wanted people to love him for who he was. He didn’t want to attack people with kisses. He just had a lot of adrenaline rushing in his body now from all the happy news. Stuff that he had done 5-6 years ago and forgotten about seemed to have had some effect and might improve lives in the future. Maybe it wasn’t so bad being an auror. Maybe it wasn’t so bad being Harry Potter. Draco certainly seemed to think he was something to admire.

Right, and Draco really needed to reign it in. Complimenting people was no way for adults to behave. Adults commiserated with one another, offered support in times of trouble, and behaved like normal people. They didn’t compliment people so much that it seemed like a crazy come on, and confused people about their intentions. Harry could understand Draco admiring him for today- Draco wanted to help marginalized communities and Harry had unknowingly helped a marginalized community- but to take it beyond that and make it sound like Harry was the most amazing person on the planet was just not on.

-x-


	13. The Flaw in the Plan

CHAPTER 13: THE FLAW IN THE PLAN

The sun rose orange the next day as Harry tumbled out of his haystack. Draco was already up and staring at Harry.

Harry rolled his eyes. There are things that are done, and things that are not done, and Draco needed to stop what he was doing now.

Harry stole another glance at Draco. Draco’s mind seemed elsewhere as he tracked Harry’s movements across the yard. A little ghost of a smile played across the corners of his mouth.

‘Oye,’ shouted Harry.

Draco didn’t seem to hear him.

‘Oye,’ shouted Harry louder. ‘We have to go talk to the angry wizards this morning.’

Draco slowly came back to reality, and a flash of annoyance marred the beauty of his face. Harry noticed that Draco was wearing a translucent, white linen shirt yet again, albeit crumpled. This must have been what Draco had on underneath the warm overcoat he wore for Sweden.

Draco slowly sat up on the haystack, his body unfurling like a cat. The look of disagreeableness still marred his face. ‘What’s for breakfast?’

Harry had quickly shucked on his outer clothes and was lacing his boots now. ‘I don’t know. Whatever Lexy and the others give us.’

Draco yawned lazily. ‘Ugh’.

Harry got up. ‘I’m going. Meet me up with the others once you’re ready.’

‘Can you save me something?’ called out Draco as Harry marched away. ‘I want to relax a bit longer.’

-x-

‘Lazy git,’ thought Harry as he stomped towards the clearing where the giants slept. Harry had come all the way to Sweden to do a favour for Draco, and had to contend with Draco’s weird compliments without losing it, and Draco didn’t even have the courtesy to socialize appropriately with the giants. Instead, he was lazing around in bed (haystack, Harry’s mind corrected), and daydreaming with a silly smile on his face!

Harry wondered what Draco was daydreaming about. It must be good, else he would not smile so much, and would not look annoyed when he was brought back to Earth.

Maybe he was composing one of those rhymes of his? No, thought Harry. Draco has said he did that under duress when people were mean to him. No one had really been mean to Draco here anymore than they had been mean to Harry.

Yet, remembered Harry, Davos had squeezed Draco and not Harry. But that situation had been easily remedied. Draco couldn’t be that sensitive?

But then Harry remembered Draco in the wooden lodge – distraught and, well, sensitive. The only person who had been mean to Draco had been Harry himself.

Harry sighed. But, Harry had made amends for that. He had done such a good job of making amends that Draco was crushing on Harry now.

With that thought, Harry felt a jolt of panic in his stomach. Was Draco daydreaming about Harry?

-x-

Harry was eating the last morsel of his breakfast when Draco finally showed up. Draco walked up to the clearing looking sunny and cheerful. His golden hair caught the sunlight and made it seem like the sun was visiting them for breakfast in person.

Draco exchanged greetings with Lexy, Davos, and a couple of other giants they had met at the previous night’s meeting. He then turned towards Harry.

Draco’s mouth had been smiling when he spoke with the giants, but his eyes crinkled up now that he looked at Harry. Harry had learnt that one way to tell a genuine smile from a fake one was to check whether the eyes were smiling, and Draco’s eyes were definitely smiling at him.

Harry felt his neck and cheeks grow warm and knew that he must be blushing. He turned his eyes away from Draco. ‘The plan is to head down to the wizards as soon as you’ve had your breakfast.’

Draco sat down next to Harry, and Harry felt his left side warm up. Were his elbows tingling?

‘Are those rocks?’ asked Draco, peering into Harry’s plate.

‘Lichen,’ said Harry, shortly. ‘It’s very nutritious and readily available here.’

‘Oh, you mean _mud_ , then,’ said Draco, laughing. ‘Rocks and mud are close enough.’

Harry didn’t bother replying. His breathing had become faster when Draco laughed. Instead, he got up to wash his plate.

-x-

Harry was jittery as he rinsed his plate in the stream. What was wrong with him? Why was he feeling jumpy around Draco? And why were his godforsaken elbows tingling? Was he crushing on Draco now?

Harry remembered almost attacking Draco with a kiss the night before. But that was just the adrenaline from the success of yesterday… Another image flashed across his mind – his erection from the night that Draco had first owled Harry about the giants.

Merlin, thought Harry. Had he been attracted to Draco? Harry remembered thinking that the erection was because of the adrenaline from his successful trip at the time. Merlin, Harry thought, adrenaline again… he blamed a lot on his adrenaline. Maybe it was Draco that was responsible for that one as well…

Harry shook his head, as he shook the water droplets off his plate and began to walk back to the giants’ clearing. He couldn’t be attracted to Draco. He was just cold and lonely, and had recently realized that he fancied men more than women and Draco was the only human male around.

That was it, thought Harry, with some strength in his thoughts. And, Draco had been nice to him when Harry was dehydrated at Grimmauld Place.

Yes, that was it, concluded Harry in his head. He had a need to be loved reaching out from every pore of his body, and Draco just happened to be the only human male around.

Harry reached the clearing and saw Draco, head thrown back in laughter, golden hair glistening. He was playing with the Bebe Harry. When Harry reached the clearing, Draco’s eyes smiled at Harry once again.

Harry’s stomach sank.

-x-


End file.
